Dark little secrets
by Iresol
Summary: Taking place after the movie involving Bruce meeting a woman with connections to Gotham's crime. She's Bruce's social equal and Batman's enemy.
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: All righty! I have seen "Batman Begins" and OMG! Mr. Wayne is just utterly amazing. The best Batman since Michael Keaton! Naturally I had to do a fic. It was either this or homework. Feedback is welcome!_

Lucius Fox scurried across the parking lot of a young woman he knew. A young woman that could help Master Wayne better then he and Alfred. Their first aid skills were good, but when it came to internal injuries, they needed to get in touch with people who had attended med school.

Athena Merozikki who just happened to have her own clinic which was opened 24 hours.

"Is she discreet," Alfred had asked, hunched over the young man he had raised, in the back of Lucius's Jeep.

Lucius had known Athena since her mother had given birth to her, giving Gotham's biggest crime boss his only daughter, his prized and beloved daughter. She had grown up around organized crime and thugs: she lived discreetly.

"Do you trust her," Alfred had asked.

Lucius had taken his own children to her clinic many times.

He trusted her with his life.

When he pushed the glass door opened the receptionist glanced up, smiled at him and waved, "Good evening Mr. Fox. How are you?"

With a large broad smile he addressed young Ares Merozikki, "Is your sister here?"

The teenage boy nodded and pointed toward the hall, "She's in her office, Sir."

With a nod the older man strolled through the reception area of the pristene office. Not only did it have full clientel, it had family funding. Which was one of the reasons the exquistely decorated office never had fallen victim to robbery.

It was a known fact whose daughter ran the clinic.

It was a deathwish to harm such a precious member of the Merozikki Crime Family.

When Fox stood outside the office of Athena and looked in he saw the beloved daughter standing at her desk, looking over paperwork. The paleness of her skin defied her Greek Heritage, her black hair was far too straight but her dark eyes, they flamed as if they channeled the ancient diety she had been named after.

Lucius cleared his throat and she glanced up.

Upon seeing him her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose, "You're out late Fox. What's the problem?"

Unlike the other nurses in the clinic, Athena simply wore jeans and a white shirt underneath her lab coat. Her long black hair pulled back in a braid and on her feet were basic hiking boots.

"Athena, I have a friend whom was harmed in a car accident. But I need strict secrecy. You cannot utter a word of his being here. Or speak of him at all."

A smile curled on her full lips.

She reached for her tools: a BP cuff, stethascope, sissors, tourniquet, and beeper, putting it all in various places. "Mum is the word."

Satisfied, Lucius calmly led her out of the office, out of the clinic, into the night and to his vehicle as if there was not a problem in the world. Only the full moon gave hint of any problem.

Lucius opened the truck and first Athena spotted a white hair man perched over a black whale.

Then the shape took form in the dim lights of the Jeep.

Upon recognizing the suit she made a noise, "I see…ok, I'm going to go get a stretcher. Have him naked when I get back here."

Alfred nodded and she turned to her friend placing a hand on his wrist, "Naked as a baby. I don't want any evidence of Batboy in my clinic."

At that she ran across the dark parking lot.

Fox turned to Alfred who had begun to dismantle the suit. "Where do you want me store this?"

The hands of the old butler trembled. They went cold when blood oozed from between the suit as it was removed. "Wayne Manor…please. You can select a automobile from the garage until I can have this cleaned of Master Wayne's Blood."

**Inside the private wing of the clinic later that night…**

Alfred watched the nurse practicioner finish sewing up the last of the incision she had made to remove a shard of metal.

Three x-rays, a cat-scan, and two minor incisions later Bruce Wayne lay under heavy sedation in his own privare room, under the watchful eyes of his childhood guardian.

"The bleeding is all under control now?"

It had been the third time he had asked that question.

With the patience of a saint, Athena finished her sewing, "Yes. I'll want Mr. Wayne to remain here overnight at the shortest for observation. Are you familiar with heart monitors?"

Without a second thought Alfred nodded.

She finsihed and began to knot the clear thread she had been using with two hemostats. "I'll leave it on for you then." When she finished her knotting she cut the excess thread, "I would like to stress though, before Mr. Wayne takes part in anymore community service, I would make sure his ribs heal. If they are broken completely he stands a good chance of lacerating his liver."

Alfred looked over Bruce's handsome face.

Six stitches that would never scar stitched a deep gash upon his hairline. The young man had a black eye and scratches that marred his neck and cheek. Bruce had been very lucky his suit was so strong. He had almost lost the night's earlier fight.

Refusing to sit, Alfred nodded, "Yes Ma'am."


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce opened his eyes expecting to find himself on the ground. Instead he found himself in a hospital bed, in a small well-equipped room, a room that was not located in Wayne Manor.

When he turned his head he felt tightness on his neck. With a stiff arm he felt the skin, his fingers met stitches.

Where was he?

"Ah, good morning, I was curious as to if you were going to join the world of the living today."

Alfred.

Bruce turned his head the other way and saw his companion seated in a chair, leg crossed over his lap, a cup of tea at his elbow newspaper in hand. Blue eyes looked him over like a hawk.

Feeling more at ease, Bruce relaxed, he covered his face with his hands while yawning and stretching, "Where am I?"

Moving around he felt tenderness in his muscles, on his skin, even in his bones. He felt stitches in various places and even a pain on his stomach

"A clinic. A young lady Lucius is familiar with of Greek heritage…"

Bruce lowered his hands, "Athena?"

The paper lowered and Alfred's blue eyes peered out from over the top, "Indeed. She suggests that you remain here ten more hours. Observation she tells me."

When Bruce did not argue Alfred set the paper down in his lap.

He looked over his grown charge.

The son he never had.

"Master Wayne, need I remind you of her…criminal relations? Wayne Enterprises does not need to be associated with crime factions."

Bruce was silent.

"Are you familiar with the term _conflict of interest_? She knows who you are."

Bruce met Alfred's eyes with his own, "Yes. Don't look at me like that…and no, she's more of an asset then a threat."

A white eyebrow rose to an impressive angle, "Oh? Do tell."

At that Bruce sat up.

Not happy being under scrutiny from someone he loved as a father. He was even more unhappy when his body protested. So much so bright colors danced in the corners of his eyes. With a wince and gasp he argued, "She can help us understand the workings of the crime organizations of Gotham and on more then one occasion has helped me find crime bosses."

Doubtful.

Alfred's eyebrow stayed at his arch, "And to Bruce Wayne?"

Once again Bruce tried to stretch.

Tried.

"Aren't you always telling me I need a social life? Don't billionaires flock with other millionaires?"

Still doubtful, the eyebrow lowered a fraction.

Alfred was not a happy man and Bruce knew it. When the door to the room opened both men looked up. Alfred's expression remained the same.

In walked a nurse.

A young timid nurse who blushed at the sight of Bruce. In a near whisper she told the two men, "I'll go find Miss. Merozikki."

She then scurried out and closed the door.

"As ecstatic as I am that you are once again taking an interest in the female form after Rachel…well…Bruce. One simply should not fraternize with the enemy," Alfred added, lifting his newspaper.

Alfred was indeed right.

So much so that Bruce laid back down, his body not happy with him in the least. He covered his face with his hands trying to think.


	3. Chapter 3

The door opened and Bruce uncovered his eyes. The sight of a rumpled woman with cheeks extended like a chipmunk as she tried to finish whatever she had been eating.

Sure, she smelled like roasted lamb and coffee. Looked as if she had been sleeping in her clothes. Not to mention on her feet were the cloth shoe covers, minus the shoes.

Everything Alfred had told him was gone.

Out of his mind.

She gave Alfred a wave while swallowing what could have been breakfast or lunch, Bruce wasn't sure. He only knew when she was at his side checking the monitors above his head he could feel the slight brush of her clothes against his skin, when she pulled the blanket down to look over the stitches on his stomach he could feel the coldness of her fingers on his less then cold skin.

She was driving him crazy.

Finally she was done chewing, done cleaning her teeth with her tongue, and positive she didn't have anything stuck because she asked, "Anything hurt more then it should?"

"No," was all Bruce could tell her.

When she took his wrist, held her thumb over his pulse and watched her watch he swore his heart kicked up a few beats. Her rich brown eyes were intent on her watch, "Well, I would strongly suggest you refrain from any of your community services. Let Alfred fill in for you for about a week. You need to give your ribs time to start healing and your body time to let the bruising go down."

Having a heart rhythm she looked up to Alfred, "His heart beat is normal. I'll give you some sedatives for him incase he doesn't relax. It is essential his ribs start to heal evenly."

"Sedatives?"

Athena nodded, "Yeah. Crush them up and put them in his food or drink. I'll make sure there is a weight to pill chart, we don't want to over or under-dose him."

With the hint of a smile, Alfred looked to Bruce, "We would not want that at all. Would we Master Wayne?"

Bruce looked up darkly at Athena, "You're sadistic."

She flashed a perfect smile, "You never complained about it before Master Wayne."

Alfred's smile promptly vanished as one appeared on Bruce's face. Logically deducing Bruce would want privacy, Alfred decided against it. He asked, "Will Master Wayne be able to attend the Mayor's Birthday party this evening?"

She glanced up at Alfred while she began to take a blood pressure reading, "I don't see a problem with that…so long as he is driven and picked up. I'm really concerned about the broken ribs Alfred."

Seeing the intensity in her eyes he replied, "As am I."

Her eyes looked down at the blood pressure cuff, happy with the reading she got. She removed the cuff and backed away from the bed. "I'll go write up a

prescription for some sedatives and something for any pain. I'll see you once more before your discharged Bruce. Nice meeting you Alfred."

Alfred watched her walked from the room.

He could see that she was an attractive woman. He also noted that Bruce watched her go. At that he rolled the newspaper he had been reading and swatted Bruce with it the moment the door closed.

Bruce jumped and Alfred hissed, "_You were intimate with that woman!_"

"Did you not hear her? My ribs are delicate!"

"You should be happy I do not break the rest of them. And you did not answer my question."

With a darkened narrowed gaze, Bruce replied, "Why does it matter?"

Something between anger and homicidal rage crossed the elderly man's face. "It does not look proper for you, _Bruce Wayne_, to be consorting with the daughter of an _organized crime kingpin_."

**Later that day…**

Bruce escaped.

It might not have been escape since Alfred had went to get the car. But he got out of his wheelchair and walked back into the clinic.

Past the receptionist who was arguing with a patient over insurance, or lack there of. He walked by memory through the clinic on the hunt for the only pair of jeans paired with a white coat.

Which he found in her office looking over records.

He didn't knock or make a noise.

Instead he walked up behind the jeans and slid his hands under the white lab coat finding a simple cotton shirt beneath. She stood up and looked up into his eyes, "What?"

He couldn't kiss her. He couldn't bend that way. Instead he asked her, "Are you going to the mayors party?"

"Probably. You know, you should tell little Miss. Doesn't-need-a-bra that sex will be seriously limited till your ribs heal."

Confused and annoyed, Bruce dug around for the hem of her shirt, "Why does she need to know?"

She looked back down at her paperwork, "Don't you think with your being Batboy that would put a strain on the relationship, if you want to call it that, which we share? Wouldn't that be some kind of _conflict of interest_? It's only logical you make a clean break and turn to her and her bone thin arms. You know she'll be more then thrilled to be seen with Bruce Wayne."

His fingers found the skin of her waist.

Her hands quickly covered his, preventing their movement.

"I think we should discuss this over dinner."

"You would," she countered, not looking up.

"So I'll pick you up for the party tonight at seven? We'll have dinner and then go wish happy birthday, and then head home?"

Finally she peeked over her shoulder at him. Eyebrows drawn together in

perplexion, "You're serious."

The hazel of his eyes didn't lie, ever.

With a sigh she gave up, "Fine. Pick me up at seven."


	4. Chapter 4

For the twelfth time Bruce adjusted the pillows behind him on the couch. He tried and tried and tried to find a position that wasn't killing his ribs.

So far it wasn't going well.

Once more he shoved yet another pillow behind him where he sat, lengthwise, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

Papers scattered around on the couch, on his legs, and on the floor.

Although he was looking for any hint of the recent crime drop during the end of the week and then the spike on Monday. Nothing could explain it – yet.

"Master Wayne."

Bruce glanced over his shoulder at Alfred who set a tray on the highly polished table mere inches away from Bruce. On the tray was a mug of tea, a small plate of ladyfingers and a sliced orange.

Bruce took the orange and dubiously studied the tea.

Alfred sighed loudly, "I did not drug your tea."

Bruce chewed on the orange and asked, "What do you think Alfred? Why is there a spike Monday evenings of theft among Gotham's elite?"

Taking in the papers on the floor for the past five days Alfred sighed. The crime spike had gone on longer then that, a week almost. "Perhaps…instead of reading the articles about the crime, we should look to the recent additions to Gotham starting a week prior?"

Swallowing the sweet orange Bruce pondered it. He took another orange slice, "Could you get me papers from a week ago? I'd get them myself, but, since you have banned me from moving…"

A twinkle appeared in Alfred's eye. "I'll return shortly. In the meantime, perhaps you should phone Rachel. She may have some insight for you."

The sound of Alfred's feet on the polished marble filled the air.

Bruce eyed the phone as if it had teeth.

Sure, he could call Rachel and ask her. It could be simple as that. But with Rachel it was never as simple as that. She didn't want him. Rejection was some thing new to Bruce.

So he continued to stare at the phone, unable to pick it up.

It was childish and he knew it.

He needed to be an adult and deal with it in order to keep their friendship. It was hard when a part of him still loved her.

Bruce chewed on the orange knowing he should pick up the phone. Rachel appealed to every last civilized and sensible part of him. She was kind, sweet, honest, compassionate and everything a well groomed business man would want. She held the promise of normalcy. A blue collar life complete with children, pancakes every Saturday morning and her angelic smile.

Then there was the other side of Bruce.

The side that was hidden beneath the well polished suits and charming smile. A dark side that was kept under wrap and allowed out under cape and cowl.

The part that hated the privilage and pomp, the ceremony of elite and masks everyone wore to impress everyone else.

That part had found someone equally dark, equally dangerous and demanding.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Mayor of Gotham's Birthday Party**

Bruce Wayne walked through his Hotel's Ballroom.

It was a stunning ballroom in itself with a high windowed ceiling that looked up at the stars. A marbled floor polished to perfection rested beneath people's feet. The walls were just as stunning and made from rich wood that added a unique scent to the room.

His eyes scanned the room. Looking over the who's who of Gotham City Elite. Looking for one person especially.

That person had vanished when he went for drinks.

The person was in a rich purple dress and should have been pretty easy to spot. Though there were people everywhere. He sipped his champagne and continued his search while smiling, chatting, and mingling his way through the crowd.

All while being very mindful of his five broken ribs and two fractured ribs.

Not to mention the stitches.

"Bruce?"

The smile on his face waned when he turned, seeing none other then Rachel Dawes in a gorgeous golden dress which highlighted the brown of her eyes. She had a smile but it was awkward.

The feeling of pure pain came. That feeling of heartbreak whenever he thought of her. Yet, he gave her a smile, "Rachel! I didn't think they'd let you away long enough for you to have a good time."

A nervous laugh came in response.

She gave him a bigger smile and noticed the second glass, "Are you here with someone?"

Wishing that someone would appear Bruce nodded, "Yeah…I managed to loose her. She's around here somewhere…I think."

Sweetly she replied, "Oh…what's her name?"

Bruce had seen that look. It was the same look Alfred gave him when introduced to a new lady. The _oh she won't last long_ look. The searing pain in his chest continued, he drank the rest of his champagne and then spotted a flash of purple.

Relief filled him.

Relief paired with the feeling of pure contentment that accompanied the woman he had spent the last few months with. For half a second he almost forgot he was in another mindless party, among people he could hardly stand to be around, pretending to be a person he was not.

"You do know her name? Tell me you know her name."

Bruce drained his champagne and put the empty glass on a tray that went by on someone's arm with pure ease, "Athena."

The commoninality of the name was not great.

She knew whom he was talking about and the smile vanished from her face, "Bruce…you do know whom her family is?"

At that Bruce placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it gentle squeeze, "I'll see you a little later."

Rachel blinked in utter disbelief. She turned and watched him walk into the throng of people and literally chase a skirt, a purple one.

The purple skirt was still.

It stood talking to a man in a powder blue leisure suit.

Upon finding his date Bruce slid up beside her, wrapped his arm around her, and hooked his thumb on the lowest part of her dress that ended precariously at the small of her back.

She looked up into his golden eyes and pleaded for escape. There was clearly desperation in them. It made him smile, "You're champagne darling."

She took the delicate glass and sipped.

Bruce reached out and shook Mr. Leisure Suit's hand, "Evening, I'm Bruce Wayne, I haven't seen you around Gotham before."

"Bruce Wayne! The Bruce Wayne!"

The perpetual smile still plastered over his face, Bruce nodded, "That's me."

The man then shook Bruce's hand far more energetically. He pulled a business card from his pocket, "I'm Taket. I just opened a massage parlor in the city."

Honest amusement covered Bruce's face.

His thumb skinned the skin of Athena's back as he looked to her, "A massage parlor. Did you hear that?"

She smiled and continued to sip the near empty glass, "Ummhmm."

"Come on and visit. Tell Gloria at the front and your first massage will be free."

Bruce pocketed the card.

It went with all the other cards he had been given in the two hours of the party.

"Oh…I'll be back Bruce…"

Bruce watched the man hurry off after someone. He then looked back to Athena, "Gotham is getting another brothel."

She finished the champagne, "You're going to be very busy when your ribs heal up."

The social smile curled into a true one. Bruce pulled her closer, mindful of the stiffness in his side. Ignoring that as much as possible. He pressed his lips to her temple, smelling the flowery scent of whatever shampoo she had used. "Whenever you are ready to leave let me know."

She looked at him with narrowed eyes, "Funny. You should consider a career in comedy."

His lips skimmed her dark hair that was pulled back so elegantly, "Or…we could go hide out in a suite upstairs with room service till this clears out."

"Really?"

"Really, I know the owner."

"Mr. Wayne, you are in no medical condition for any sort of sexual activity. As your healthcare provider, I must _insist_ upon celibacy for at least two weeks, and no less."

His eyebrows rose, "You were thinking _that_ while picking _that_ dress out."

Finally she smiled and everything was perfect.

Being a considerable amount shorter, she kissed the white of his Tux shirt, "Lucky for you I'm off duty."

A hiss came from Bruce. He craned his neck on the hunt for the mayor, murmuring, "Lets just wish him happy birthday and get to your loft."


	6. Chapter 6

Classical music drifted through Wayne Manor and the scent of fresh baked bread filled the air.

It was Alfred's time to himself.

With Chopin in the background, hot tea by his elbow, and a copy of "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil" on his lap: Alfred was relaxing and doing quite well. In a pair of striped pj's, slippers, and glasses at the end of his nose.

When the phone began to ring he considered letting it.

He really didn't want to put his book down, nor did he wish to get up from the couch in the library.

Briefly he considered a personal assistant.

Finally he set the book down, his feet followed and he walked to the phone. Lifting the antique from its perch on highly polish oak, "Wayne Manor."

"Alfred, it's Lucius."

"Ah! Lucius, what can I do for you? Bruce isn't in."

The older man on the line sighed. He then told Alfred, "I had several men from the city here inquiring about items Wayne Enterprises produced. Military items. Items Bruce has…borrowed."

Well aware of such items.

Alfred touched his lips, "Oh my."

"Oh yes, they'll be here tomorrow. Will Bruce be able to attend the meeting?"

Alfred opened the drawer to the desk the phone rested on in search of a pen and paper. "Yes, he's at the Mayors birthday party."

Lucius Fox's voice lightened, "Good. Would you tell him the meeting is at eight?"

"I will."

"Thank you Alfred."

"Likewise Lucius."

At that both men hung up and Alfred took down the note. With a sigh he stood and stretched his aging frame. Swearing silently. Between the Code Department and their insistence at checking beneath Wayne Manor for rumored sinkholes, the IRS and the Arson Investigators, Bruce Wayne was getting it from all sides.

Not that Batman was getting off Scott-free.

Between the police, Arkham Inmates, and religious fanatics who considered Batman to be a sign of the Apocalypse: Batman was also feeling some pressure.

Therefore Alfred decided to wait for Bruce to return and give him the message, instead of calling and ruining his evening out.

Every morning at precisely five thirty Alfred woke, showered, dressed, and went down stairs into the kitchen to prepare breakfast and eat.

Like every other morning he followed his routine.

Unlike every other morning he encountered a half dressed woman exiting Bruce's bedroom. He watched as she slung her heels over her shoulder with her clutch in hand.

She spotted him and smiled, "Morning Alfred."

Utterly amazed at her audacity, he could only reply, "Morning Madam Merozikki…are you not going to join Master Wayne for breakfast?"

_Like every other female he had brought back to his bedroom_, Alfred thought to himself pleasantly.

Athena made a face, "Oh God no. Besides, he'll be out for a while, he's _ very_ tired."

Without shoes on her feet she walked shamelessly down the hall and toward the staircase. "Nice seeing you again Alfred!"

Alfred watched her go and waited for the front door to close.

When it did he hurried to Bruce's bedroom and cracked the door. He peeked in seeing none other then the heir to the Wayne Fortune sound asleep in his large bed. A mop of brown hair covered his pillow and a white sheet covered the man and his meticulous figure.

Knowing Bruce had a few hours till his meeting and that he should let the tired man sleep, Alfred walked into the room. Feeling like he was looking after a male teenager unable to control his urges, he picked up a pillow and promptly dropped it on the playboy's head.

A moan came in response.

"Athena?"

"She left," Alfred informed his one time charge.

Bruce swatted the pillow away and rolled onto his back. The bruises on his ribs had hardly lightened, his stitches were no longer swollen. He blinked and looked around the destroyed bed.

All evidence of her gone.

Bruce rubbed his face and dropped his head back in his pillow.

"You have a meeting concerning missing military equipment from Wayne Enterprises at 8. Lucius called last night to tell you. I would have told you sooner, however, I was in bed at two."

"Missing equipment," Bruce mused.

"Also, the city code people will be here today about the sinkhole issue…and I have decided I am no longer going to mow the acreage. I'm hiring someone. The beast of a mower found it's way into the lake by the vineyard and I have no desire to buy a new one, nor ride it."


	7. Chapter 7

Athena walked into her office with three patients already in her clinic waiting room and was greeted by none other then her father, Aristotle Merozikki, who sat in her rolly chair as if it were his throne.

She came to a stop.

Dropped her clipboard on her desk and regarded the mobster with annoyance, "Daddy, what are you doing here? Don't you have money to launder or someone to bribe?"

She didn't step into her office.

Nor did she get within reach of her father.

Instead she stood where she had stopped and crossed her arms while she waited for an answer.

While his voice was calm, controlled, hiding his true nature beneath wrinkles, wire rim glasses, and a pleasant demeanor. "Athena, you told me you wanted no part of our business and I respect that. I am here about you."

Her dark eyebrows rose, "Me?"

"Yes you."

Athena leant against the doorframe in her office and waited for her father to elaborate.

"I have noticed you in the paper on the arm of none other then Bruce Wayne. Did I not tell you when you were ready to settle down I would find a suitable husband for you? Wasn't that one of the agreements?"

Athena's watched him closely.

Picking her words oh-so-carefully.

"Daddy…I'm not ready to settle down."

Aristotle stood and Athena tensed, he picked up his hat from her desk, "Do you remember the conditions I gave you when you went to college? When you opened this clinic and separated yourself from our family business?"

Quietly, but holding his gaze, she answered, "I remember."

"Your mother misses you."

She remained quiet and watched as he stepped closer. When he reached out she stiffened, preparing herself. Unsure if he was going to simply touch her face or strike her.

No longer scared of her father.

Perhaps it was because she knew just who he was, what he was capable of. She did not fear him. She regarded him as the man who fathered her and allowed her to live as a normal person, nothing more and nothing less. Unlike other normal people of Gotham she had guidelines and depending on his mood would determine her punishment for breaking such guidelines.

His weathered hand touched her face.

"I love you Athena."

Quietly she added, "I love you too Daddy."


	8. Chapter 8

_Authors Note: Ok, I am not a comic book junkie, which was why I loved Batman Begins, for it's realistic value. So I have no idea if Lucius Fox is married or not. I'm winging it here so if I'm wrong let me know and I'll fix it. Thanks!_

Bruce Wayne adjusted his tie while waiting with Lucius Fox at his side.

Waiting for the people from the city.

Waiting to explain what happened to several proto-types that had seemingly vanished. Each Lucius had leant out and had come up with a suitable explination for their absense.

Bruce was there as head CEO mainly for moral support. Lucius was more then capable, but Bruce had to keep face. Therefore in order to distract himself, he asked, "How long have those people been protesting outside of city hall?"

Seated at the large meeting table while sipping a glass of water, Fox calmly spoke, "About three days. They go to their tent for sermon…or whatever they call it…they worship some alien, apparently their prophet is a alien child who has come from space to lead them."

The paper on the table had a picture with the headline, **Space Worshippers Call For The Capture Of Batman**. Written by none other then Amy Meng. Reporter and life sucker for the Gotham Times.

"Really? An alien child? Is he green?"

A smile curled over Fox's face, "No. But he wears a tin hat and bathes daily in vinegar to keep away any radio signals from the government. Apparently Batman is some sort of sign of the Armageddon."

Bruce laughed.

He skimmed over the article while they waited in the conference room. Concentrating on the good parts – _seeing Batman as a sign of the end Prophet Negly calls for a capture of the creature in order to restore harmony with the universe_ - _Not only does the group practice communal living, polygamy, and complete abstinence from any form of education, they view modern medicine as a shame and call for people to boycott the use of microwaves_.

Bruce motioned to the paper, "Did you read that?"

"Oh yes, I also attended one of their sermons out of mere curiosity. They are a intriguing group."

"Intriguing?"

Fox looked up at Bruce, "It is more polite then saying they are _out of their minds_. But amusing none-the-less. Are you going to attend the opening of Gotham's Vineyard tonight…or participate in other activities."

The vineyard opening would be boring. Full of the usual elite of Gotham, people who Bruce wanted nothing to do with. However, Batman needed as much anonymity as possible and the more Bruce portrayed himself as the carefree oblivious and slightly ignorant playboy, the better it was for him in the long run.

Still, he shuddered, "I'll have to spend at least another night or two resting. I broke seven ribs the other night."

Both of Fox's eyebrows rose, "_Seven?_ That's quite an accomplishment."

Shoving both his hands in his pockets Bruce walked to the window and peered out. "Yeah…so I'll be among the drunk and obnoxious tonight."

"Don't forget the recovering alcoholics."

"Thanks."

Through the window Bruce could see most the city. It's buildings and the ocean. It was a magnificent creation of man. Once again he checked his watch. Not only was he more then ready to get the meeting done and over with so he could start looking into the spike in crime on Monday nights in Gotham. He had to get some work done on the Tumbler, a few spare parts for some minor body damage from the previous night.

A thought came to his mind, "Where do you order flowers for Mrs. Fox from?"

"Flowers?"

Bruce turned, "Yes, flowers."

Fox folded his hands and laid them upon his chest, quite amused, "Whom are you sending flowers to? I don't recall you ever sending flowers to anyone? Did Rachel get a promotion?"

"They're not for Rachel."

Fox waited as did Bruce, until Bruce admitted, "They're for Athena."

Fox was silent for a moment while he considered that information. He placed his feet upon the table and cocked his head, "Why? As a thank you?"

Turning away from the window.

Bruce walked toward a seat and sat down at the table, "A thank you, I want to take you to dinner tight, the winery, and possibly breakfast."

"You don't want to do that, whatever happened to that blonde lady you were with last week…the rather slim one."

Bruce waved his hand, "What blonde one? I was with Athena last week and the week before that." Silently noticing that two weeks was quite possibly the longest he had ever seen a woman.

Before Lucius could speak the door opened and three men in bad suits walked in.


	9. Chapter 9

"And who the hell are those from?"

Athena turned to see none other then her older brother in the waiting room of her clinic. She was between patients and had just brought information up to her secretary to file on a recent patient.

Ares Merozikki stood up in a white suit, no tie, his long hair pulled back and more diamonds on his person then in a mine. His finger pointing defiantly towards a vase of red roses on the secretary's desk.

Surprised.

Athena snatched the card from the dozens and dozens of roses, opened it, and saw Bruce's handwriting.

A smile crossed her face.

She shoved the card in her pocket, "None of your business nosey. What do you want? Why are you here? Did you get someone pregnant again?"

Ares made a face, "No! Look, we gotta talk."

Athena motioned for him to follow after she smelled her roses. "You can talk while I work."

He did little to hide his annoyment.

Though he was a grown man in his early thirties he followed her while rolling his eyes and sighing, looking upwards and walking loudly. He followed her as she picked up a new chart from holder outside a door.

"Speak quickly Ares, time is money."

With a loud noise, Ares stood in front of the closed exam room door and made her look in his identical brown eyes. "Athena, you are in danger."

Not impressed she sighed, "That means you're in more danger then I am as Dad's only son."

Again he rolled his eyes.

Taking in the bustling clinic as nurses and aides went along with their daily duties. "Look, with Falcone gone all the families are fighting for control and we're killing each other off. Dad has two guys with me at all times to make sure I don't end up with cement shoes."

She tried to push past him and he grabbed her arm, squeezing it hard, hard enough to bruise. "Athena I'm serious. You may think you're out of this life and you may be. But, you have Merozikki blood in your veins, and as long as your heart is beating you are a danger to the other families."

Getting annoyed, she tapped the chart against her thigh, "What do you want me to do about it Ares?"

"Stay with me until this feud is over."

She laughed and tried to pull out of his grasp, he only tightened it. At that she spat, "No. Ares, I have my own life. I'll be more watchful and sleep with my gun under my pillow, but I am not going to hide."

**Later that evening…**

Athena had convinced herself that she wasn't hiding.

She wasn't.

She just was staying in for the evening with the door locked. Plus she had stuff to do. Things she had wanted to get done for a while.

She had wanted to wallpaper her bathroom.

She wanted to clean out her closet.

She had also wanted to read a book from her pile of _to read_ books beside her bed.

However, what she found herself doing was eating a large pepperoni pizza while watching the "A&E Channel" sweat pants and a t-shirt she had stolen from Bruce.

It was during a commercial break when her doorbell rang.

_Dog the Bounty Hunter_ was on and she was not too keen on putting down her pizza, or answering the door. So she shouted, "Who is it!?"

Long ago her neighbors had stopped talking to her.

From the front door came, "Bruce!"

She all but dropped the piece of pizza. It found it's way back to the box as she got up, swearing in Greek under her breath while she walked through her apartment, missing Beth yell at Dog.

Licking her lips to catch any stray sauce.

Athena unlocked all four locks and whipped the door open, seeing Bruce looking like a million dollars. All cleaned up and spiffy in his suit for the winery opening. Trying quite hard not to notice she asked, "Did you get my message?"

She had left a message with Jessica at Wayne Enterprises.

Intentionally.

Knowing that is she had spoken to Bruce he would have talked her out of it.

He leant against the doorframe, glancing over her as if she were in lingerie. "I did, you're blowing me off for pizza and TV?"

With a narrowing of eyes, Athena jabbed his tie with her pinky, "We're not even dating. Plus I have stuff to do and spending my evening with the half drunk elite of Gotham…no thanks."

"You're not even going for me?"

Wishing she had her pizza, Athena gave him an evil smile, "Little Miss. Doesn't-need-a-bra will be there and she _really_ likes you. You might get lucky."

The calm and collected look on Bruce's face was far from amused.

"Fine…would you like some pizza and to wallpaper my bathroom? You're pretty handy with scaling buildings, my bathroom sink should be pretty simple."

Bruce walked into the apartment, "Did you steal anymore of my clothes?"

Athena closed the door and began to lock it back up. Without shame she inquired, "Why?"

"So I can get out of this suit."

Not having anymore of his clothes, Athena pulled the t-shirt off and handed it to him. "Hopefully you have boxers on, none of my panties will fit you."


	10. Chapter 10

"Just where were you last night? Your presence was noticeably absent from Gotham's Winery."

"Wallpapering. Alfred, I think these weirdoes's have something to do with the spike in crime on Mondays. They've been here during the spike. We should attend one of their meetings."

"Wallpapering? What exactly were you wallpapering?"

"We can go this afternoon. When were the code people coming? Have you chased them away yet?"

"Master Bruce."

Bruce looked up from where he stood drinking a rather strong cup of black coffee, leant causally against the steel refrigerator in nothing more then a pair of broken-in jeans and a white t-shirt. Newspaper in hand.

"What exactly were you wallpapering? Do you even know how to wallpaper?'

Bruce sipped his coffee, "Athena showed me how to do it. You were right Alfred."

Smelling the coffee, Alfred made a face and decided to open a window to get the smell out of the kitchen. He was a hot tea man. "Oh?"

"Yes. I need a social life and attending mind-numbing social gatherings is not it. According to this they're having a healing session…today at two. We should go."

Once the window was open the smell of freshly mowed grass floated in.

Grass that Alfred didn't mow.

Which put a smile upon his face.

"So you're taking to wallpapering as a social event?"

Bruce lowered the paper and looked across the kitchen at Alfred, the sound of power tools and hammers droned on in the background as the last bit of rebuilding was done on Wayne Manor. "No. I'm adding variety to my social outings."

"Variety," Alfred muttered, strolling to another window and opening it. "Does that mean you'll be laying tile for her? Or painting her car?"

Ignoring his friend, confidant and closest thing to family, Bruce continued, "According to Fox these people hate the wealthy…so we'll have to dress down. Do you have any jeans? A t-shirt? Sandals?"

A look of disgust crossed Alfred's face, "_I most certainly do not Master Wayne!_"

"I'll find something for you then. Do you prefer jeans or shorts?"

Alfred turned quickly, "Neither. Why can't you take your new friend with you?"

"She's at work." Bruce sipped his coffee. Then he had a flash of brilliance, "A jogging suit. That way you'll match and be in a suit. We'll just have to find some sneakers for you, and take a cab there."

At that Alfred gave up.

He walked from the windows and to the coffee maker, turning it off. "Do you intend to do anything tonight?"

For a moment Bruce pondered the question.

Which caught Alfred's attention. He glanced at the man who stood so comfortably against the steel appliance.

"Depends on what I learn this afternoon."

**2:27 that afternoon…**

Alfred walked down the aisle of the old theater which held plays, solo concerts, and even the occasional opera in a navy blue jogging suit that had white strips up the side.

A pair of brand new sneakers Bruce had rubbed in the garden on his feet.

Feeling out of place was an understatement.

He looked around the filling seats for Bruce. Who had decided to split up when they arrived. Looking fashionable in jeans, a t-shirt, and baseball cap Bruce wandered towards the stage door, taking a seat where he would be able to sneak backstage if he so desired.

Alfred looked upwards, at the cloud painted ceiling, wondering how he had let Bruce talk him into it. Along with a jogging suit that made noises with every step. It just wasn't dignified.

Upon finding a seat that suited him, Alfred sat down, attempting to get comfortable. He fiddled with the zipper and smiled at the woman beside him kindly. The woman in turn asked, "Have you ever been to one of the great prophet's healing sessions?"

Alfred shook his head, "No ma'am."

She pointed a pudgy finger to the program holder on the back of the seat in front of Alfred, "You must fill out that survey. The prophet needs to know everything about you in order to help you achieve inner telicity."

Alfred blinked.

He then took a piece of paper from the wooden holder and looked over the survey. His heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Bruce was onto something. When he read over the survey which had questions that asked for address, total income, working hours, place of work, schooling, religious affiliation, last doctor appointment, immunization record, social security number and continued into far more personal questions Alfred deemed improper.

**Across the theater…**

As Bruce looked over the survey in utter disbelief, and the man beside him who filled it out without missing a question, he felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrate.

It took him a moment to dig his phone out, flip it open and put it to his ear, "Hey darling."

Over the phone came an exasperated voice, "Bruce. I thought I told you we weren't dating."

He folded the survey up and put it in his pocket, along with the information on Prophet Negly. "I do recall something like that. Why?"

"Well I found something rather peculiar in my mailbox."

"Did you?"

"Now…tell me Mr. Wayne, where am I supposed to wear these? To work?"

"No, dinner, tonight. Is four too early?"

"Four? For what the early bird special?"

He laughed, a real laugh. Had he not been doing spying he would have forgotten himself, "No, Vrato's. They close at six."

There was a pause.

Followed by, "Bruce…that is not a place two people go who are merely bed-buddies."

Bruce became aware of someone beside him. While he glanced up he told her, "Well let's re-evaluate our relationship."

The usher tapped Bruce on the shoulder and leant down, "Sir. The Great and most Knowledgeable Prophet forbids use of the cell phone within the same building as him. It disruptes his inner balance."


	11. Chapter 11

Bruce hurried into the very expensive restaurant running very late.

Not a little late, or kind of late.

He was an hour and a half late and still trying to get his tie done. Which he usually was able to accomplish in his sleep. Though it appeared the tie was just being intentionally difficult.

A doorman opened the door and gave Bruce a kind smile, "Madam Merozikki is seated in the back Mr. Wayne. She's been expecting you."

A feeling very close to guilt hit Bruce.

When he entered the empty restaurant it grew into shame.

Though he was not a religious man he found himself praying that she would forgive him, that she wouldn't shun him. The sudden thought of her angry with him and refusing to see him felt worse, he didn't want to deal with that.

The feeling worsened as he wound his way through the tables and restaurant decorated like an outdoor Italian Café, complete with cobblestone flooring and hanging lamps.

He turned a corner and stepped into a private dining area. Spotting Athena easily, her being the only soul in the restaurant helped. A lady was seated with her and the table was covered with food. The two were chatting and laughing, drinking wine and eating from the numerous plates of food.

The corner booth that sat at was fixed in the room overlooking the ocean.

According to numerous magazines it was the most romantic restaurant in the city, which had been why Bruce had picked it.

At the sight of him both women looked up at him. Both eyed him as if he were a piece of meat. Athena pointed to Bruce with her wine glass, "This is Bruce. Bruce, this is my college roommate Cleopatra Vrato, she is the owner."

Looking every bit as regal as her name, Cleopatra stood and did not shake Bruce's hand, instead she kissed both his cheeks, "Have good meal Bruce." She then turned to Athena and mouthed _call me_ before she left.

Bruce did not wait for an invitation.

Immediately he sat down across the small table, "I am so sorry for being so late. Honestly, I didn't intend to keep you waiting, especially not so long."

A smile curled over her lips.

She set her wine down and took a bit of garlic bread, "It is ok, quit apologizing. I get it. Don't forget…I know, so it's a given you'll be late on occasion, and to be completely honest, I'd rather have you late and know you're not up to something nefarious like most the people I know."

He considered her and when he realized she was honest and not mad he relaxed, he poured himself a glass of wine. Still feeling guilty, or maybe incredibly lucky, he felt the need to be somewhat honest. "I wasn't doing that…not exactly, Alfred and I were…"

She cut him off with the wave of a hand. Silencing him. He was actually afraid for a moment, until she ordered him around. "Bruce, take off that tie. You're on a date, not at a business meeting, make yourself comfortable, please. You're irritating me looking so nicely pressed."

For the first time that day he laughed. A true laugh. While he pulled off his tie he noted she had a casual black dress on. While he unbuttoned a few buttons on his dress shirt he realized she had on a tiny bit of makeup, not as much as when she was at formal events, her hair hung around her shoulders like a silk screen. When he took off his jacket and hung it over his chair he realized that for some odd reason he felt at ease.

An ease he rarely felt outside Alfred's company.

He picked up his wine and she motioned with her hand, "You may continue Mr. Wayne."

While he sipped his wine, had some veal and tasted various dishes on the table he told her about his day. Chasing around the Code Enforcement People, getting Alfred in casual attire, attending Prophet Negly's session and sneaking backstage.

Bruce took the information sheet on the prophet and survey from his jacket and handed them to Athena while he polished off the veal and moved onto the eggplant.

He watched her eyes widen as she looked over the survey and narrow, she then looked to him, "People filled this out?"

With a nod and sip of excellent red wine to wash down the vegetable bake, "In great detail. I'm thinking that the prophet may be behind the spike in crime on Mondays. There's a sheet on him in there too…is there anymore bread?"

While she flipped through the papers she handed him the basket.

Bruce began to mop up the homemade red sauce.

"Bruce…I know this guy."

He glanced up with the bread almost touching his lips.

She pointed to the picture of the prophet. A short white man with extremely blond curly hair, thick bottle frame glasses, and an air around him that screamed Asthmatic. If he had not been dressed in a tin cape with matching turban upon his head, he could have looked like an average guy.

"Bruce, keep eating, I can talk while you eat, it doesn't bother me."

He stood up and motioned for her to continue. Then he began to reorganize the table. Moving dishes and glasses, moving his glass and silverware with plate beside her. He promptly sat down in the little booth beside her and worked on eating the bread.

A smile crossed her face, but she pointed to Prophet Negly. "He and Falcone were business partners, that's why he's calling for a capture of you-know-who."

Bruce's eyebrows rose.

"Yes. You see Falcone would make generous donations to this little flakes cult, and he would keep a percentage and then give Falcone his money back in form of diamonds. When Falcone was put behind bars this turd lost a lot of funding and he's not happy about it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Within a week's time…**

Hidden within an old oak wardrobe lay the batsuit. The cowl looked out at intruders with an angry scowl.

At the sight of it Bruce felt anticipation.

He hung his cloths on a hook that had been drilled into the stonewall and began to put on the black suit piece by piece. Each piece going on in an order, almost ceremoniously. With each piece he felt stronger, powerful, capable of anything.

It wasn't just a costume. It was a part of Bruce.

No one knew this more then Alfred who helped the man change. "Are you sure you side is well enough for this Master Wayne?"

The slight change in expression that crossed Bruce's face when his chest was covered with the suit had not been lost on Alfred. There had been obvious discomfort.

"Yes Alfred, I'm just a little tender, the ribs have already begun to set."

Not pleased with Bruce, Alfred grimaced.

"Don't worry Alfred, I'll be mindful of them. I need to be there for the meeting between Negly and Vrato. I'll be spying. If I'm lucky I'll come across a patient from Arkham."

While he spoke Bruce rolled his shoulders, fidgeted and tried his best to get comfortable with his tender side. When he was satisfied he let Alfred help put the cowl over his head.

**Later that night….**

Batman sat perched in the darkness of a rooftop beside an open window, which allowed him to overlook and oversee a meeting between the visiting man and a Gotham crime lord. Even though he was a good distance away he could see and hear everything.

It could have been because every last sense in his body was heightened, as it always was when he wore the suit, when he became Batman.

Or the bugs he had planted earlier in the week.

He had known about the meeting days beforehand thanks to the devices. With a definite time set he had been able to search Gotham for any Arkham Inmates that had gone undetected.

The Prophet, a jittery very nervous man paced while talking. His voice rose when he grew upset. Batman noted every nervous twitch the small man made, as well as the young man in a suit.

The youngest mob king in Gotham, Vrato Jr.

He'd heard enough discussed between the two men to indict them for a long time, but, what they had moved onto turned him cold.

"Look, don't worry. By the end of the week I'll be running Gotham. I already have hits out and by tomorrow every last heir apparent will be gone, by the end of the week there will be no one but me to control the crime in Gotham. Then we'll talk."

The prophet shook his head and continued to pace around the dressing room at the theater, "No no no, I don't like it. Killing so many people in a week! The police are sure to notice."

But the mobster, seated calmly in a dressing chair with his legs propped up on a makeup table simply shook his head. "That is the beauty of it. The police don't care if we kill each other off, it's less work for them."

"Ok, what about Batman?"

Again, the young mobster shook his head, "Why should he care? Less for him to do. Hell, he should be thanking me." He rubbed his trim goatee, "Calm down, you're no good to me when you're hysterical. Don't worry about Batman."

Quickly the prophet turned, he pointed wildly at Vrato Jr., "Easy for you to say! I lost two million dollars because of that…thing! The last thing I need is another scandal or hit to my accounts. These people are starting to question why we're here in Gotham. I had to make up something about the end of the world…who are you going after tonight?"

Curious, Vrato Jr. asked, "Why?"

"I'm psychic remember, I need to wow Gotham with some sort of news tomorrow, if you didn't hear I'll be on the Biff and Diff Radio Show."

Pleased with that answer, the mobster shrugged, "I'm starting with my brothers, the Merozikki siblings, and Gaponenko's niece."

Batman rose, considering going down into the dressing room. Until the mobster put his legs down, "Half of them should be dead by now. Within an hour…we'll have a considerable amount less competition and problems."


	13. Chapter 13

_Authors Note: Ok, there is __**a lot**__ of he/she in this part, and probably whenever I do a part with Batman because in the movie he is so obviously not Bruce Wayne. I wanted to elaborate on the dual-ness of Bruce and this was the way I did so. Any insight or ideas are always welcome._

**Athena Merozikki's Loft…**

It took Batman eight minutes to get to the loft he had visited numerous times during the past week.

It was the longest eight minutes of his life to date.

The night air had been dead. Not even the slightest hint of a breeze coming off the ocean, which meant there was no hope of gliding. Which left him the Tumbler that he had parked in the alley beside her building, allowing him a quick exit.

The grappling gun took longer then usual, or so he thought.

But when he reached the top floor and came within eye sight of her loft balcony, which overlooked the ocean and had a thirty story drop onto concrete below, he felt more in control.

That was until he saw movement inside the apartment.

Movement from two people, it almost comforted him, knowing she was alive for the moment.

He ran along the roof of the building beside her's and jumped with ease onto her balcony, landing mere inches away from a patio set.

It did not slow him in the least.

That was until he noticed several things.

The two figures in the apartment were men, large men. Bloody handprints covered the glass and he could hear one of the men on a phone. Quickly he darted behind the furniture. Knowing where she was was more pressing then the two men.

"We lost her, she got out of the apartment and jumped. We'll check at the bottom on our way out."

Hatred overcame him, rage and a need to inflict as much harm as he could. Hidden within the darkness he began to tremble from pure hatred of the two men who had robbed him. Again he had been robbed. This time was different, this time he was not defenseless.

And then he saw blood.

It trailed down in a small river and touched his boot.

He hunkered down to look under the table, the pain in his ribs long forgotten when he saw a small form curled up in a tiny ball, trying to be as small as possible.

It was then he heard the chattering of teeth.

Suddenly even more aware of the two men and the danger they posed, he held a hand out to her, wondering how he hadn't seen her before, how they had missed her? Unable to feel her skin with his glove, he had to settle for the firmness of her arm, the solidness of her body, and her uncontrolled trembling to assure him she was alive.

Once his hand touched her she shot out from under the table. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Ignoring the sizable cut on her thigh. All her scrapes, cuts, and bruises she had gained from the two men. She knew she was safe.

Though it wasn't Bruce.

One look into the eyes of the cloaked man told her that. He was something else beneath the suit and to be honest, she didn't care. He could have been dressed as the Easter Bunny for all she cared. She just knew that he could protect her from the two men who had tried quite enthusiastically hard to kill her, and had almost succeeded.

With ease he climbed onto the rail and fired his grappling gun.

The noise alerted the two men.

Ignoring their screams and holding something so precious in his arms, covered with the fabric of one side of his cape, he jumped from the rail and let the gun catch him and lower him to the safety of the pavement in a matter of seconds.

The suit he wore didn't allow him to feel the blood from her thigh, but he could feel the desperation in which she clung to him, along with the shaking of her body.

He didn't whisper sweet nothings against her ear, or make promises of protection: he didn't need to. The strength in his arms and possessiveness that he held her with were more then enough.

Seen by few curious eyes at the late hour, Batman ran to the Tumbler. Hitting the command button for it to open.

It opened and shouts followed him from high above in the loft.

When he stepped in the automobile to set her down, she refused to let go. She clung to him with her arms and legs. Her name came from his lips in a tone deeper then Bruce's, more powerful and primal. It was a guarantee, a promise that she was safe for the moment.

She looked behind and saw a sight she had never seen. The interior of the Tumbler. But she let go of his waist and allowed him to put her in the seat, the blood on her bare legs made the leather all the more slippery

In the dim light of the Tumbler he finally saw her. Dressed in one of the silky nightdresses she always wore with a matching panties, it suddenly seemed like too little. The dark color made her look paler. Then he noticed the blood. A cry came when he lifted her leg to see the cut, a long cut on the inside of her thigh.

Their eyes met, she tried to reassure him, "I'm fine. It didn't hit anything important, I'd be dead by now if it did."

When she spoke in such a battered condition it did little to assure him.


	14. Chapter 14

Alfred walked through the cavern toward the voices. Bruce was back early, a few hours too early. He usually stayed out until close to dawn, which was a few hours away.

As he walked through the caverns he could hear their voices.

"I…I can do it, I just need a needle and thread, do you have any?"

"Hold on. How much blood have you lost?"

"Not enough…it's not that deep."

Alfred turned the corner in slippers, a robe, and a matching set of striped pajamas. At the sight of Athena he felt quite over dressed.

She sat perched on the edge of a worktable in little more then a cobalt night teddy with matching undergarments. Her hand held her thigh in an attempt to slow the bleeding which had slowed considerably, it had almost stopped.

Bruce's voice came from around the bend.

Inside the storeroom Alfred assumed.

From his tone alone Alfred could tell he was very aggravated and still wore the suit.

"You're a bad liar, Athena."

She glanced up at Alfred as he approached her. "Good Lord, what happened?"

She forced a smile through a bruised face and swollen lip, "I don't know."

He stepped closer and gently nudged her hand aside.

The cut was long, at least six inches and straight. From a knife. With skill he pressed against her pale leg, determining that it was a shallow wound. "It's stopped bleeding Master Wayne and is indeed shallow. Bring me that liquid stitches and some bandages."

Athena's eyes narrowed, "That isn't on the market for home use."

Alfred gave her a true smile.

His first true smile to her, "Indeed." He then added, "A blanket would suffice too." At that he turned his attention back to her, "Lets have a look at you. What else needs attending?"

"I sprained my wrist. Two of my toes are broken. And…I...it's fuzzy in this ear."

He motioned for her to hunch over.

When he examined her ear he saw the makings of a dark bruise forming. "Were you hit?"

She nodded and flinched when his fingers touched her tender ear.   
"Perhaps you should remove your earrings…incase there is swelling."

Obediently she listened, sat up, and began to take out the fortune in diamonds that she had in her ears. It was not lost on him, "Robbery was not why you were attacked?"

All she could do was shrug, "I don't know. They never spoke to me. They never asked me a thing. They just came in my apartment and tried to kill me."

"Negly sent them."

Alfred looked up as Bruce came into the room of the cavern with an armful of supplies. Obviously intending to make a single trip.

She narrowed her eyes while Alfred poked through the supplies that were dumped on the table. "Negly?"

"Go get a small wrist split," Alfred ordered, quite happy to have the liquid stitches, and quite happy they worked as quickly as they did.

Within a matter of minutes, between drops, drying time, and moving on down the open wound, he had it closed. Under the watchful eyes of a professional. When he finished she commented, "That's very good Mr…Alfred."

With a glance at her he smiled kindly, "I have had much practice."

Diligently he continued to work.

Again, Bruce appeared from a room within the damp cavern, a small wrist brace in hand. Alfred spoke without looking up from the leg he rubbed ointment on, "Give it to her and go change. You're covered in blood Master Wayne."

When he began to argue, Alfred glanced over his shoulder, "Between the two of us, I believe we can handle a small scratch."

The unhappiness was evident in his eyes.

Very gently Athena took the brace and stroked his exposed chin, "I'm fine now. Alfred will take care of me."

**Upstairs sometime later…**

Even at the late hour, the halls of Wayne Manor felt warm, despite the pure size of the gigantic manor. The rugs were thick and plush upon wooden floors, and the artwork had a warm feeling to it. Obviously intentional.

"I'll have these cleaned for you by tomorrow. Any room here is welcome to you, though I would expect you know where Master Wayne's room is?"

Athena forced a smile.

Limping on her injured foot and wrapped in a heavy blanket, "Thank you," she softly answered. Not wanting to be alone she looked to Alfred.

At the sight of Alfred turning to walk the other way, she quickly asked, "Would you…walk me to Bruce's room? Please?"

Even before Bruce appeared, fresh from his shower and in no more then a pair of lounge pants Alfred would have complied. He would have done anything to erase the unease from her face.

"It's all right Alfred, I can take it from here."

He gave the young woman a smile, "I'll bring some hot tea up to Master Wayne's bedroom."

A shaky smile crossed her lips and she mouthed _thank you_.

As Bruce's arms encompassed her Alfred gave her a wink, the same wink he gave Bruce as a child. The kind wink he gave Bruce upon graduation from school and whenever the young man accomplished anything.

He then turned and headed toward the kitchen.


	15. Chapter 15

Like every spacious room in the almost completely rebuilt Wayne Manor, Bruce's room was no exception. It was large, open, warm and sophisticated. The furniture wood and matching, all of it had a welcoming feel. The carpet was thick and soft beneath feet and curtains hung that completely blocked out the sun.

Only an atomic clock which projected the time on the ceiling gave any clue to the hour when the curtains were closed.

The red numbers glowed 11:32 when Alfred pushed the door open and walked in the master bedroom. Tray in hand. The previous tray had breakfast for Bruce, who had not gone to sleep. The current tray held medical supplies.

Clean bandages, ointment, and a bottle of Tylenol.

Completely dressed as always, he walked across the room and set the tray on Bruce's bed stand. Noting that Bruce hadn't moved since 8:24 when he had entered the room with breakfast. He was still curled up in the center of the bed, with the sheets drawn over his head, revealing little more then the top of his head.

"Sir, you'll need to take off her bandage, apply more ointment, and allow her leg to air for healing purposes."

There was movement.

Bruce rolled onto his side and peeked out of the sheets, blinking out at Alfred, "Right…"

The big lump in the center of the bed turned into two smaller lumps as Bruce reached for the tray. With his hand on it he froze, he glanced up at Alfred, "Um…she's not dressed."

"Ah. Well then, I'll be downstairs attempting to communicate with the yard boy. He doesn't speak English or wear shirts…a dreadful chap. Do not forget you have a interview with the _Gotham Times_ at three."

Bruce smiled and then grimaced, having forgotten about the interview. He had to work on his PR since his birthday party. "Thank you, Alfred."

At that the older gentleman walked through the bedroom and closed the door.

From beneath the covers came a tired voice, "What time is it?"

Finally he sat up.

Bruce tugged down the sheet in order to see Athena, who lay curled in a ball, her eyes gazed tiredly at him. "Almost noon."

She made a face and buried her face in the pillow. Knowing that she needed to call at least her brother and her office. She was supposed to be at work. But there were two other practitioners who worked there. Understaffing was not a problem. She just didn't want to move.

Her entire body hurt.

With every movement it punished her for the abuse she had put it through.

Bruce's hand spanned her calf. As a result she lifted her head and looked up at him, knowing he needed her to move so he could unbandage her leg. Every movement allowed her to feel the stiffness in her body, but she shifted so he could unwrap the bandage the wound around her thigh. Remove the gauze and rub greasy ointment on the glued skin.

His touch was careful, gentle, so she closed her eyes.

She found it didn't hurt too much to talk, "Whose interviewing you?"

"Amy Meng."

The Gossip Queen of Gotham. It had taken her months to procure an interview with Bruce. Mostly because Alfred kept loosing the messages.

"Lucky you," she murmured in the pillow.

When Bruce brushed his lips over her waist she opened her eyes and glanced down at him. He kissed another spot, a different spot, a bruise. Which prompted her to ask, "How did you know…about last night?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

He wouldn't.

"I overheard Negly and Vrato Jr talking."

A groan came from her, she then muttered, "It figures."

His fingers softly tapped on her skin. "Your not surprised?"

"He wants power and he doesn't care how he gets it…have you seen the news? Is my brother ok?"

He hadn't seen the news, but Alfred had brought a paper. Bruce sat back up and looked around the nightstand until he pulled it from beneath the breakfast tray. On the cover were the pictures of every mob related killing over the night.

Athena's brother and father were absent from the paper. Once he was positive he handed her the paper and looked around his large room at nothing particular.

Oblivious, she looked over the paper.

At that she sat up, ground her teeth in pain, and inched off the bed. "I need clothes. Could you call me a cab?"

Bruce blinked, "What?"

In nothing she limped to the bathroom, her voice easily carried, "A yellow car that takes people places for money. I need to get back to my apartment."

Stunned, Bruce slid from his bed and followed her into the large bathroom. Upon seeing her look over herself in the mirror, examine her stitches and poke at a welt on her calf. He leant against the doorway, "I have that black dress you wore at the Art Museum Opening still. And you are not taking a cab, I'll take you to your apartment to get some stuff."

She looked at him in the mirror.

A dark perfectly arched eyebrow rose, "Oh? Are you going to take me to my brothers place?"

Bruce pondered his answer briefly.

Then he told her, "No. You can stay here, there are dozens of rooms."

Her eyes narrowed. "No?"

"No."

"No, Bruce, if I move in then this thing we have will no longer be casual. Isn't that what we agreed upon? Nothing serious?"

As he stood there he ate his words.

But he plotted on just how he would get her to stay in his home. He had to do it. It wasn't just because she was in danger. It went deeper then that. He was growing quite fond of her.

"I can stay with my brother."


	16. Chapter 16

Lt. Gordon parked his sedan behind a very expensive looking silver sports car for the valet at "The Heights Apartment Complex."

Two valets stood beside the car arguing over who would park it. They almost didn't notice the lieutenant. James Gordon gave his keys to them with the instructions, "Make sure it's locked."

He almost felt funny saying that. With Bruce Wayne's million-dollar car, no one was going to take a second look at his unmarked work vehicle. Old habits died hard. He hadn't survived as one of Gotham's few clean cops but not being careful.

Guilt weighed on him as he walked into the expensive building. He flashed his badge at the doorman, who knew who he was from his occasional visits to his most honest and reliable mob informant.

With the sudden slaying of mob kids: he was almost afraid to be knocking on her door, knowing her face was not in the paper. Which meant she was either alive, or her body had not been found.

He took the elevator to the top floor, the loft.

Once the lavish elevator stopped he punched in the four-digit code for her floor and the doors opened.

_Security was too good, no one could have gotten past_, he thought to himself.

With only two people on the loft floor, he walked past one door and down the simple hall that reminded him of a casino. Bright maroon walls with black and white framed pictures of Gotham, the floor was plush white carpet that was spotless.

When he came to her door.

A plain unadorned white door he knocked. Then he took a step back and patiently waited as voices from inside the apartment softened. A few seconds the door opened and a face he hadn't see in years looked out at him.

Bruce Wayne.

In a tuxedo no less, bowtie undone with a few top buttons open. The man blinked in surprise at the lieutenant and then opened the door, "Morning, we didn't keep anyone up last night? Did we? I can assure you those screams came from me and were…quite enjoyable."

From in the apartment came, "Bruce…whose there?"

Bruce peeked over his shoulder and shouted, "Some cop…the lieutenant guy from the paper…you may need to put some clothes on babe."

Then came, "Let him in! I'll be right out."

With a goofy smile Bruce opened the door and let James Gordon in the immaculate loft that was larger then his own apartment. Furniture that was spotless and rugs that were clean as the day they had been purchased.

He then looked to the playboy billionaire who appeared as if he didn't have a single care in the world.

From somewhere in the apartment came, "I'll be right out Lieutenant Gordon!"

Bruce nodded with that smile on his face.

He then held out his hand, "I remember you from when I was a little boy, I'm Bruce Wayne. You probably don't recognize me…"

"Oh no. I do, you have grown up quite a bit Mr. Wayne. Since you're out here, would you mind me asking if you were in the company of Ms. Merozikki last night, and quite possibly the hours?"

Bruce nodded and headed into the apartment. He sat down on the corner of a solid looking corner table and put his hands on his knees, "Yeah. Yeah, not a problem, um, I left home around…eight…I'll have to check with Alfred, but it was getting dark out. I came here and we were distracted for a while. We were supposed to go to the winery but…she's a gorgeous girl. So it got kind of noisy, you can check with the neighbors and around…three or so we headed back to my place. I have a pool and bowling alley."

It took everything Bruce had not to question Gordon about the killings. The investigation and whether Athena was safe of not. But, Bruce Wayne was not Batman, he was oblivious to a lot, spoiled, and at times a real jackass: it was the perfect cover for Batman.

Both of the cop's busy eyebrows rose.

When Athena stepped out of the master bedroom in a slinky black dress that reached her ankles, a dip in the front that almost touched her stomach and a back that went lower he cleared his throat and stood. "Morning, I hate to bother you and Mr. Wayne, but there was a disturbance last night among certain families in the city, and wanted to make sure you were well."

Athena smiled kindly and walked to Bruce, she leant against him and shrugged, "Oh we're fine. I saw the paper…that's frightening. Do you know who did it?"

Lt. Gordon shook his head, "Not at the moment. Did either of you notice anything out of the ordinary last night?"

Athena and Bruce shared a look.

Then as if something came to him, Bruce nodded, "Yeah, now that you mention it. When we left I saw a car parked in the alley. A black one…an eighty something Cadillac, local plates…VA4-J596. There were two guys in it."

"Three," Athena added, "One was sleeping in the back. The driver was huge…a bodybuilder or something and the other was really skinny, wiry. He had a tattoo of a bird on the back of his hand a huge diamond ring on his pinky."

Gordon had quickly taken out his notepad to make notes, especially the plate numbers. "You saw all that last night?"

Athena looked to Bruce while Gordon was concentrating in the notes.

"Yeah, I'm always _very_ observant when we're outside, especially at night. After what happened to my parents."

"Of course, of course, have you heard anything from your brother?"

Athena tried to get comfortable. Her ankle was killing her and she was trying not to fidget. The dress was snug, but with her stiff and sore state it was hell. "Not yet. I'm hoping to avoid whatever mess he has gotten himself in."

He finished with the notes and put the pad away.

"Will you call me if you find out anything?"

"Of course," Athena assured him


	17. Chapter 17

Bruce walked into his home, Wayne Manor, carrying Athena, who lay still in his strong grip.

Alfred came running, "Sir! What happened?!"

Both looked over her placid face.

Bruce calmly told his butler, "She was refusing to come back here with me. So I drugged her. Is that reporter here yet?"

In utter disbelief Alfred closed the front door. He looked to the man he considered a son and stammered, "You…you drugged her?"

With a nod Bruce walked into the parlor , which lead into the library, which had a couch that he gently set her down on. After he dropped the heavy duffel slung over his shoulder, he fixed her dress so it didn't rid high and then he covered her with a blanket.

Alfred was at his side.

"You do realize she'll be quite…livid when she awakens and realizes that she was drugged."

"Yeah…is the woman here?"

"Oh, yes, she arrived a matter of minutes ago. She is in the garden waiting, I have served her wine and some caviar at her request."

Bruce looked up from the unconscious woman. His brows narrowed, "At her request?" The tone of his voice told Alfred that Bruce was not pleased. Just as he was when she began to place her order, as if he were some sort of short-order cook. "She dismissed me and informed me to send you out when you arrived."

At that Bruce left.

From the stature of the man and the way he walked out, Alfred could tell Bruce was not happy. Which would not bode well for Miss. Reporter. It made Alfred grin obscenely.

At the sound of Bruce storming down the hall he knelt over Athena and tucked in the corners of the blanket that covered her, just as he did when Bruce was a young boy.

He made sure her pillow was in place and then took off her heels. Placing the designer shoes on the floor. Then he attempted the pick up the duffel. But promptly dropped it.

Needing the skateboard he used to move heavy boxes around the manor, Alfred walked from the very well stocked library and off to get his mover.

**The Garden…**

Still in the tux, but without to bow tie and jacket, so he just had the slacks and white shirt on, Bruce took the steps two at a time.

Well aware that people of his class often times did not view their butlers with the same affection that he did, nor did they have such close relationships with the hired help. But having a stranger disrespect the man who had taken care of him as a child – that would not do.

He walked through the massive gardens full of flowers, trimmed trees, and foreign plants flown in from around the world. He walked the trail towards the greenhouse that held furniture for garden parties.

Seated on a chair was an Asian woman in a fire engine red suit that matched her nails, her hair pulled up in a bun, and thick black glasses rested on her nose. She sipped at her wine and glanced up at Bruce.

Quickly she set it down, stood up, and brushed her skirt off.

He came to a stop and nodded toward the mid-day snack, "Could I get you a refill? More caviar?"

The expression on Bruce Wayne's face told her the interview was not going to go well at all.

**Inside Wayne Manor…**

As Alfred pulled a string attached to a skateboard that held a duffel bag that weighed a ton, the phone began to ring. Phones throughout Wayne Manor began to ring.

Leaving the wheeled bag in the hall, Alfred hurried to an empty bedroom, a guest room. What would have been Thomas and Martha Wayne's bedroom in the former Wayne Manor.   
He picked up a phone from a marble top table that held hundreds of fresh flowers overlooking the gardens, "Wayne Manor."

"Alfred, this is Lucius, have you seen the news?"

"No."

"Well turn your TV on."

**Soon…**

After giving more meaningless and vague answers then ever before in his life, the interview was over, having lasted under fifteen minutes. He walked into the back of Wayne Manor utterly thrilled with himself.

While Alfred was usually not particularly amused when Bruce did anything detrimental to the Wayne name, he was pretty sure Alfred would take exception just once.

He checked on Athena and then went into the kitchen to make himself a snack. A big snack. He was craving protein. He needed a steak.

"Turn On The TV!"

Bruce glanced up from the fridge and closed the door, as Alfred ran in to the TV that sat on the kitchen island. A massive island that had been specially made to his specifications.

Alfred turned on the TV and Bruce gave it his full attention.

None other then the good Prophet Negly appeared on the news program, protesting with his fans and followers in front of city hall, calling for a capture of Batman, again.

Riot police had been called.

Though this time, Bruce felt a tightening in his gut.

Alfred turned to Bruce, "That man is a loose canon. He is not right in the head."

All Bruce did was nod.

He then decided against the steak, against such a heavy meal. A protein shake and salad did better when his nights were particularly active.


	18. Chapter 18

_Authors Note: Sorry for the delay! I have been out of country, but am home now and am almost done unpacking! So more updates coming soon! Enjoy and review, thanks!_

**9 that night…**

Athena opened her eyes and found herself staring at a high ceiling, on a very comfortable mattress, with the sluggish sensation throughout her body that screamed she had been drugged.

She was super pissed off.

She managed to push herself up into a sitting position, seeing a big huge black duffel bag on a nice piece of wooden furniture, a dresser. There were lite pieces of wood furniture around the room, including the massive bed she was on.

The comforter and pillows were soft and plush.

She was in Wayne Manor.

A nice bedroom in Wayne Manor.

That didn't surprise her.

What surprised her was the glass of water and a sliced and peeled orange in a crystal dish on the dresser. She looked around the bedroom and saw a walk-in closet, a door to the rest of the room, a door that led to a balcony, and an open door that led into a familiar bedroom.

She then looked around and found a phone on the nightstand. Athena rolled onto her stomach, feeling like a turtle. She crawled across the bed which felt like quicksand. Finally she was there and grabbed it, dialing her brother's number. The phone rang three times and on the fourth a voice answered it hesitantly, "Yes?"

"Tim, it's me. Is Ares there?"

"Oh my god! Are you ok? Do you know how to use the phone?"

Feeling not in the mood to argue, she simply told her brother's roommate, "Tim, I'm fine. Tell Ares I'm at Bruce's and I'll see him for lunch tomorrow."

**Meanwhile…**

Prophet Negly walked into his suite at the W hotel, hotel of none other then Bruce Wayne, a man who the prophet had been trying to get a meeting with, having no luck.

He took off his tin turban and kicked off his chinos.

There was a bottle of iced champagne and a well-cooked cheeseburger from room service on a steal cart by the front door, all three locks were bolted.

The prophet was not taking any chances.

He walked around his expensive room in tighty-whities with the TV remote in his hand. The Lifetime Channel was running a marathon of _Desperate Housewives_. He had all the seasons on DVD but wasn't about to miss an episode. For the past ten minutes he had been on the phone with the kitchen, trying to determine whether or not his hamburger was made from Free Range Beef.

With a disgusted snort he dropped onto the couch and turned up the volume on the TV.

It was so hard to get good service.

He could hear background noises, he could hear yelling: he heard the kitchen.

But it was taking them forever to find out about the beef.

Then the line went silent.

"Hello? Are you there?"

Annoyed he hissed and turned to redial the kitchen number, but stopped in utter shock, the phone fell from his hand and he was rendered speechless at the sight of Batman in his hotel room.

He stood and tried to run.

Batman caught him by the throat, spun him around, and lifted him up off the ground with one hand: holding the considerably skinny man eye level.

It was all Prophet Negly could do not to scream.

To hold his composure and not embarrass himself.

Then Batman spoke in a voice that went through the considerably smaller man, "You've been wanting to see me?"

Speechless, Negly gaped.

The man was smaller, obviously unarmed, and no threat. Batman dropped him on the couch. The terrified man's momentum carried him over and onto the floor, where he tried to stand and only succeed in stumbling and falling over, repeatedly.

Batman walked around the couch and the man was unable to do more then crawl from pure terror of the cloaked monster. "Please! Please, please don't hurt me! I'll do anything…anything."

"I know about your plot with Vrato Jr."

Negly's eyes widened, "No! You don't understand!"

"I know about your business with Falcone."

The prophet bumped into the TV center. Unable to scurry any further away from Batman, who towered above him like a nightmare. "That…that…that…that's not what it looks like."

Wanting nothing more then to show him the same amount of compassion that he had shown Athena, the same amount of mercy.

But he couldn't lower himself to the standards of a coward. The prophet screamed when he felt the needle enter his thigh, when the drug entered his system and he became groggy his pleas slurred, within a matter of seconds he was heavily sedated.

He wouldn't wake up for hours.

Lt. Gordon would arrive within minutes.

Batman stood and dropped the tape from the previous night, the conversation between Vrato Jr. and the prophet on his pale and bony figure.

Then he left the same way he had arrived, off the balcony.

**Later…**

The man followed the woman for three blocks and she had no idea. She had her cell phone attached to her ear as she stumbled down the street, on her way home from a lively night at the club.

The Arkham Inmate: a serial rapist, sadist, and murderer followed her, a knife he had found in hand.

He stalked her like wild game.

From the distance he could see her tiny mini skirt, her sequined top, and hear the click of her heels on the pavement.

She came to a crosswalk, laughing loudly in the night at whatever her friend on the other line had said. Her hand fumbling around, trying to find the crosswalk button so she could cross the empty street.

He drew closer.

Beads of sweat formed on his palm from where he held the knife.

Anticipation grew as he drew nearer and nearer to her. He caught of whiff of her perfume and then…something caught his eye.

He turned, saw a movement, saw black, and then everything grew dark and he fell in a heap on the wet sidewalk.

**4:39**

Wayne Manor was silent and still as Bruce walked down the newly constructed hall towards his bedroom.

There were no lights on and no need. Bruce could see everything, his night vision was amazing and seemed to have gotten better over the past months.

Alfred had gone to bed long ago.

But the sight of someone in his bed made the tiredness seem bearable.

Coming home to an empty bed had been normal for so many years. But upon finding someone to fill it, Bruce decided he liked that. He liked having a warm body to curl up beside and fight over the blanket with.

Having someone to whisper conversations in the early hours with.

Having that same person knee him in the back and make demands for intimacy wasn't so bad either.

Bruce stripped off the shirt he had been wearing, then the pants. He had worn that tux long enough he decided and quickly pulled on some lounge pants. At that he crawled in his bed and beside the definitely womanly body. Pulling her closer and getting comfortable in his bed.

"I'm going to work in the morning," she murmured.

A moan came in response.

His legs wrapped around hers and his lips found her neck, "You're coming to see me golf…right?'

He felt her laugh.

Her fingers covered his, which covered her breast, "You just don't want to be partners with Miss. Doesn't-Need-A-Bra."

She was awake. She waited for an answer which never came, she peeked over her shoulder, his nose brushed her cheek he was so close, and sound asleep.

**Later…**

Bruce had decided that he wanted to wrap his golf club around the neck of Little Miss. Doesn't-Need-A-Bra. He had also decided that golf just wasn't the sport for him.

It could have been the outfit.

Or the slow pace of the game.

Maybe the partner who dropped every single sexual suggestion known to man to him every other minute in their game.

But, it could have also been the seven o'clock tee time.

It could have been a variation of any of those things. Any of those things could have been the reason Bruce wanted nothing more then to wrap his 9 Iron around Kimberly Amber Holloway's skinny little neck before she could grab his bottom again. Or watching Alfred haul his newly purchased golfing gear across the greens in the cart, watching with a disapproving look in his eye as the young heiress threw herself at Bruce.

Then there were the high and mighty elite of Gotham who also played golf for the children's hospital. Bruce couldn't simply donate money, he had to play golf too.

Alfred stood beside him, in a attempt to prevent a violation from occurring to Bruce from the lingerie model behind them, dressed in a mini pink dress with matching cap. He helpfully pointed out while putting the club Bruce had randomly grabbed away, "The little white ball with all those little bumps, well it is meant to go in the hold down there, not the lake, sir."

Bruce gave Alfred a scathing look.

A look that would have melted steel, shattered glass, and quite possibly set the greens ablaze. "Just kill me now," he hissed.


	19. Chapter 19

"He knows," Ares declared upon his sister walking into his apartment in the top of a very expensive high rise. The décor had a French feel to it. It was light and crisp. She loved it, Tim had done an amazing job.

She came to a stop and dropped her designer purse. "Who knows what?"

Closing the door behind his sister, Ares ran a hand through his long hair and placed a hand on her shoulders, pushing her into the spacious living room where lunch waited. Cucumber sandwiches and sweet tea, also made by Tim.

"Dad knows that you moved into loverboy's mansion."

A sick feeling filled Athena and Ares continued, "He's been calling me and calling me and has been literally up my ass all morning. I love you sis, I don't know how much longer I can stall."

Not wanting the dainty little sandwiches or tea, Athena buried her face in her hands. Ares dropped down beside her and rubbed her back, "Come on Athena. You knew better then this. You remember what Dad told you."

Face hidden within her hands she nodded.

It had been part of the deal she had made with her father. He would put her through college and allow her to work, and he would put off the arranged marriage until she was ready to settle down. A husband had been selected long ago. A husband whose family connections would promise good business in the future. Dating was just not going to happen, ever, and Athena had come to terms with that. Just as Ares had come to terms that he would never be allowed to be with his lover. He had done as his father had wished and fathered several children, he'd made heirs, and yet, there was not any chance he would be allowed to be with the one he loved.

That brought the brother and sister even closer.

Athena placed her chin in her hands, "Does he know…everything?"

"Pretty much."

She felt a headache coming on. Athena began to rub her temples and asked, "Where is he?"

Ares shrugged and knew she felt it. "Who knows. I'd keep an eye out over your shoulder in case he sends someone after you."

She nodded and took a breath. Willing herself to be strong. Knowing just what she needed to do. She stood and Ares looked up at her, "Eat something, Tim made these for us."

Just to make Tim happy Athena grabbed a little sandwich and ate it. Then another, they were pretty good.

**Later…**

Unable to return to her apartment for a number of reasons, one being she had promised Bruce that she wouldn't and then the fact she could not bring herself to set a foot there. She went shopping. Took the day off work and bought supplies, clothes, and the daily essentials she would need that Alfred would likely be unable to procure.

It was around four when she found herself walking to her car. Walking out of a high-end shop where she had purchased shoes and a few belts, a girl could never have to many of either. Especially when a girl had no idea when she would be able to shop again, or her living situation was an _up in the air_ as hers.

Remote in hand for the keyless entry feature on Ares's car, Athena spotted the lights that turned on when she hit the unlock button. While it wasn't hard to spot the little Porsche in the lot full of cars for the working class of Gotham, the lights helped with her mind so full.

"Athena Merozikki."

Absent minded, she turned, bags in hand. Distracted she asked, "Hmm?" Only when she turned to see the sizable man behind her did she realize she was in trouble.

She knew the man. The man worked for her father. He was a bodybuilder and used as muscle, Thor. His actual name was Ashley, but he had been dubbed Thor for his size. The fear that sized her made her feel sick. Immediately she stiffened and went into full bitch mode. "What?! I'm busy, I have no idea where Ares is, it's not my job to baby-sit him! If you keep loosing him I'd have dad put a tracking beacon on him!" She continued walking in her newly purchased shoes. Heels. Shoes she suddenly wished were a tad more stable. But they were really cute.

"I'm not here because of Ares."

She walked quite swiftly for her car. "Then I can't help you. I'm not into the life."

A massive hand covered her elbow and pulled her to a stop. Athena attempted to turn and wrest her elbow free. All she succeeded was in turning to face him. The man was huge and looked like a fridge stuffed in an expensive suit.

"What!" She spat, absolutely terrified.

The grip tightened, bruising her arm.

"Your father sent me to bring you home…"

"Well I'm a little busy! I have to stop a few more…" She felt him move and tried to block his hand, shield herself from his massive hand. But it connected with the side of her head and sent her downward. Colors flashing in her eyes and bells ringing in her ears. The only thing which kept her from ending up on the pavement was his hand so tight on her elbow. He told her something that she missed as he shoved her back against a parked SUV. A sudden urge to vomit came and passed while she attempted to regain herself.

When his hand tightened around her neck, shoving her against the vehicle, moving the vehicle, she gasped, the pain clearing her throbbing head. "If you were mine, you'd be dead."

A gasp was all she could manage from the lack of air.

He leant closer. Put his face to her ear, "Your whoring around has shamed the family. It would be my pleasure to snap your worthless neck." Thor never got a chance. The massive man jerked and fell in a heap at Athena's feet. She gasped, falling forward, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath and not vomit from his abuse.

"Are you ok?"

Gasping, she looked up to see Ares, a gun in hand. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her away from the body. He picked up the car keys she had dropped from the cement and handed them to her. With a quick look around he ushered her towards his sportscar that she had borrowed.

Only when she was in the car and he had drove calmly from the lot could she manage, "You…you followed me?"

"Of course. I had a feeling Dad would do something like this…you have to stay with Bruce. I have a plan."

Head still throbbing she buried her face between her knees, listening.

"I'm going to kill Dad."

Then she was sick.


	20. Chapter 20

Lieutenant Gordon was not a happy policeman. His wife had made baked spaghetti and her famous cheesy garlic bread for dinner and where was he? He was staring at the body of a Merozikki goon. The man had been shot dead in the back. A hollow point round straight through the heart. The man had died almost instantly. No one really died instantly. The human body took a few seconds to shut down, but the wound this man had received had been fatal.

"Any witnesses?"

"Nope," the young officer on the scene replied.

Of course there weren't any witnesses. Why would there be any in Gotham City?

"Is there a security camera by chance?"

"Nope," the officer replied and added, "No sign of struggle on this guys part. His hand in swollen as if he were beating someone up. He was shot from behind at close range. The gun isn't here, the perp probably took it."

Gordon let out a breath and looked around the empty parking lot.

"We did however find this."

Gordon perked up, he turned and took the evidence bag which had an earring. A very expensive earring with a lot of diamonds. It would have taken two years of his paycheck to pay for the earring itself, forget the other one.

"We think when this one was attacking the female, and we're still guessing here, he struck her and this earring was knocked out and onto the pavement. We're checking with jewelry stores around. Hopefully it's a rare piece."

**Meanwhile…**

After a fun filled day of getting his ass grabbed, Bruce was more then happy to return home. But when he walked into the study where Alfred and Athena were chatting about the new yard-boy, he came to a dead stop.

"I just don't understand, he came so highly recommended," Alfred sighed.

Athena rolled her eyes, she gave Bruce a smile and told Alfred, "Yeah, from Nicole. She has a gardener and no garden. A pool-boy and no pool."

It was then it came to Alfred. Both his eyebrows rose and he then noticed Bruce, "Ah, I see. Master Wayne, you've returned. Had enough golf for one day have we?"

Bruce had been ready to accuse Alfred of leaving early and leaving him in the clutches of Little Miss. Doesn't-Need-A-Bra, but then he saw the marks on Athena's neck, her face, and her elbow. She gave him a tired smile, "Gotham's a dangerous city."

Alfred nodded, "Indeed. It appears Miss. Merozikki had a run in with a would be mugger today."

Stunned, Bruce walked to her. He ran his fingertips lightly over the dark bruise on the side of her face, and then the hand mark under her neck. Unable to vocalize his anger, his eyes boiled. Her voice was soft as Alfred excused himself and left. "My brother was there, it's ok." She ran her fingers through his hair and he kissed her, softly but deeply. Afraid to touch her anywhere else in fear he would hurt her. His lips were the most forceful part of him. Demanding that she prove that she was ok and her response, her kiss in return was just as demanding, just as strong. When she tried to lift her arms up, to wrap them around his neck, she flinched. Immediately he stopped and pulled away from her. "It's just my elbow."

Bruce glanced down and saw that it was too darkly bruised. He leant down and softly kissed the tender skin.

Her voice was soft, "I'm going to go and take a hot shower." At that she stepped away from his and walked out of the room, towards the stairs. Bruce considered that for just a moment. Then he followed her.

**Sometime later…**

The hot water had ceased to run out. While it was not as hot as Athena would have liked it, since it her skin had not turned the bright red of a cooked lobster, the fact that Bruce was mere centimeters away made up for it. With his strong hands on her back, her shoulders, and occasionally around her waist, it was very hard to answer his questions. So much so when his lips brushed over her neck and up to her ear.

"He has a club…Vrato's. Its open nightly. A VIP thing."

Then the front of him pressed against the back of her, completely so. She simply closed her eyes and sagged against him. The house could have been on fire again and she wouldn't have cared. His tongue touched her earlobe, "Could we get in?"

"Hmmm?"

A smile crossed over Bruce's face. He tightened his grip around her bare waist and pulled her closer to him. Knowing full well that he was a distraction and he didn't care. Again he drew kisses down her slick neck. "Could. We. Get. In."

"Sure," she purred.

A plan was forming in Bruce's mind.


	21. Chapter 21

_Authors Note: OMG! I am so sorry for the delay! School and life has been crazy, but I am bound and determined to finish this! Your reviews are so welcome and appreciated!_

Alfred eyed Bruce with suspicion and unease from where he stood in the hallway to the garage. Book and mug of hot tea in hand. It was midnight and time for bed. That was until Bruce and Athena had come down the hall in clothes that were clearly meant to turn heads, ready for the evening.

"Party begins at one Alfred, don't wait up"

Alfred's white eyebrow reached a mighty impressive height and angle.

His blue eyes looked over the starched slacks and button up shirt Bruce wore. A few of the buttons had been left undone and he smelled highly of aftershave. Then there was Athena in a little black thing she called a dress. The leather jacket she wore covered more skin and the heels, well, they boosted her eye level with Bruce, who looped his arm around hers. Expertly applied makeup concealed the bruises to her face.

What made the difference were the blue contacts and the blond bob wig. There was little to do about the skin color, but the wig and contacts were a substantial difference.

"May I so inquire where this party is?"

"Vrato's," Athena replied, getting a look from Alfred. "The man who is trying to kill everyone involved in organized crime? Who quite possibly tried to have Athena killed? You two are going to his party?"

"He won't be suspecting us," Bruce answered. Then he inquired, "Has my Porsche returned from the shop?"

"What if he follows you or does something to your car? This is not one of your better idea's Master Wayne, if I may be so bold."

A thought passed over Bruce's face. While he considered the advice he added, "We have the element of surprise though. And a plan, if anything goes wrong we could always pull the fire alarm and sneak out with the crowd."

Alfred's face darkened.

Athena perked up at mention of pulling the alarm.

Alfred was not amused or impressed. He looked over Athena's disguise and sighed, "Plan?"

**Around 1-ish…**

The club was packed full of people, all manner of people.

Young college students, rich socialites, druggies and dealers, mobsters and undercover police officers. It was an overload of flashing lights, smoke, deafening music, and blindingly ugly outfits.

Making them nearly invisible.

Bruce led the way onto the crowded dance floor and pulled Athena close, appearing to be coping a feel, and or making out in a very public fashion, but his eyes were upwards, looking at the mirrors. Athena's voice came calm and clear when her lips brushed his ear. "His offices are up there. VIP room too, one must be invited up there."

His hands drifted down low and his fingers danced along the hemline of her skirt.

Even though they were getting shoved from all angles, they were seemingly in some sort of bubble. Both were able to ignore the crowd. Ignore the noise. Ignore everything and concentrate on one another and the plan at hand.

Getting into the office.

"Bruce…"

"Yes?"

Her voice calm, "I think I see a way we can get invited into the private office."

Unsure whether or not he needed to be subtle about where he was looking, Bruce stiffened, but inquired, "How's that?"

"Someone just took our picture with a camera phone."

Bruce stood and turned in her arms. She pointed out the college-aged guy who got another one. Likely to sell to a tabloid. "Go for the outraged angle, works like a charm," Athena suggested. He patted her bare thigh and yelled loudly for the young skinny man, probably some sort of college athlete in the city with his team, partying and having fun. Bruce could no longer relate.

He shoved his way through the mass of bodies.

Pushing people aside with strength that surprised them, and their being in various stages of intoxication helped. When Bruce reached the skinny young man he shoved him hard, sending him backwards into the bar.

Athena was right at his side, pleading with him to calm down, pleading to leave as more and more people stared: she was a great actress.

Bruce tore the phone from the young man and smashed it beneath his foot, yelling about privacy, nosey tabloids, and making various threats toward the young man and certain body parts males treasured.

The young man yelled back and shoved Bruce, which did no more the wrinkle his shirt. Again Athena grabbed Bruce's arm, she tugged and pleaded with him to behave.

Security appeared.

Huge men in black t-shirts quickly jumped between the men and looked between them. Athena all but smiled with the college boy was hauled away.

When it came down to Billionaire Bruce Wayne, or some random college kid: who was getting thrown out of the club?

Not Bruce Wayne.

Mr. Guard-in-charge went to Bruce's side immediately, a tall wrestler looking man. "Are you ok Mr. Wayne? I am so sorry for that. Members of the press are not allowed in any of the clubs, I am not sure how that happened, but it will never happen again."

Bruce's arm snaked around Athena's waist as he continued to be outraged. "How can you promise that? Are you going to be checking everyone as they come in? If I wanted to be photographed on my night out I would have walked down to Gotham Square!"

Again, Athena tugged on his arm, "Bruce, come on baby, lets just go."

With a look to Athena, a look that suggested he was actually considering such a thing, Mr. Guard-in-charge glanced up towards the mirrors, and then back to Bruce, "Mr. Wayne, why don't you come up to the VIP Room. Mr. Vrato Jr. would be honored to make your acquaintance."

Athena pouted and Bruce looked to her, as if asking her opinion.

She sighed and smoothed her hand over the wrinkles in his silk shirt. "Ok, but not too long. I do want to go home to bed, remember, you promised."

With a _what can you do_ look shot to Mr. Guard-in-charge, Bruce then nodded, "Why not? As long as there is a bar up there."


	22. Chapter 22

No sooner had Bruce and Athena made it to the top of the steps, mere feet away from the VIP Room, when screaming filled the club. Screams of people. Sounds of pounding feet and a panicking crowd. Then came the shouts of policemen.

Athena looked to Bruce, the security guards had forgotten the couple, with a questionable look. Had Bruce called Gotham's Police?

"Was that you?"

Bruce shook his head. Almost concerned, but slightly curious.

People ran past them in a rush to get downstairs and out of the club. Wanting to escape before the police made their way upstairs. "Where's his office?"

Both Athena's eyebrows rose.

She glanced around, but knew they had a perfect opportunity so she pointed and then followed Bruce down the hall, past the numerous security guards and famous peoples of Gotham.

"Here," she pointed, she looked down the hall and noted that no one was running their way. When she looked back Bruce had the door unlocked and open. She quickly followed him in. Bumped the door closed with her hip. Then looked around while Bruce went over to the desk, through the piles of paper and drawers.

She spotted a window and saw it lead out onto the roof. "How are we getting out of here?"

"We'll worry about that in a minute. Check the closet to see if there's a safe in there."

With a look around the ornate office she spotted the closet door. In mighty high heels she knelt down, opened the door, and then slammed it shut.

Bruce looked up.

She shook her head, "We need to leave…now."

"Why? What's in there?"

She shook her head, stepped back and pointed as feet pounded up the stairs. The police. She then opened the door and told Bruce, "Go tell the police to call a bus." She then opened the closet and pulled out a dead man. Bruce's eyes widened but he ran from behind the desk, hissing, "He's dead!"

"No shit. Bruce, just do it, if it looks like we're rendering aide we'll be better off, now go!"

With one last look down at the man Bruce ran out. He ran into the hall as what looked like a SWAT Team came up to the second level of the club. From the doorway of the private office he shouted, "Call an ambulance! Someone's hurt! He's not breathing!"

He then ran back in the office. Tripping over the body as Athena checked it for any signs of life. She let out a squeal and Bruce saw why, the man was moving. The man was alive. Quickly Athena shed her jacket and pressed it onto the wound, a bullet wound. "Sir can you hear me?"

A groan came in response as she checked his pulse, keeping count.

Bruce took his wallet from his pants and looked at the driver's license. "Armand Sainte…isn't he a mobster?"

Athena nodded but continued to question the man as Bruce dug through his wallet. Finding nothing but cards and money. When he checked some of the pockets he found a business card. A bankcard with numbers on the back. Bruce memorized the card and name and phone numbers then put it back. Just as a cop came in the room.

In her zone, Athena looked up, "The man has a single gunshot wound to his upper chest, he's going to need a bus, now. He's responsive and lost a lot of blood. Do you have a kit? I need to put an IV in him. A stretcher too to get him down the steps."

"Are you a doctor?"

She shook her head, "Nurse Practitioner."

**Later that morning…**

Bruce closed the car door as quietly as he could manage, well aware of the hour. Well aware they were way past fashionably late. He walked around to Athena's side and helped her out in little more then her black mini dress.

"So you think that man on the card, the banker, is one of the men who helps launder money from Vrato to Negly?"

Her fingers sank into his strong warm arm and she sagged against him. Tired, exhausted even. Letting him lead her from the garage and into the manor.

"It makes sense. I'll have Alfred look into it while we go to bed."

Athena made a face.

She paused and pulled her heels off. Allowing blood to flow back to her feet. Bruce quickly took the heels from her and opened the garage door. "Mr. Wayne, what makes you automatically assume that I'm going to go to bed with _you_?"

With a quick turn of his wrist he spun Athena.

She was whipped around and face to face with Bruce, who remained in the garage. A smile curled over her lips as his brushed hers, slowly at first. Until he hands reached downward and around his neck, she tilted her head, deepened the kiss, and Bruce pulled her back in the garage. Which was more of a massive car showroom then maintenance and storing area.

He backed her up against the first car he came to. Onto the hood of a silver Lamborghini. Against her lips he managed, "You were really really something tonight. I don't think I have ever been that turned on around wounded people."

She laughed. It was partially due to her exhaustion and then her attraction, and continued as he kissed her neck and hooked his fingers in her black underwear, sliding it down her pale legs.

Dropping it and the expensive heels on the hard garage floor.

"Bruce…"

Bruce paused, almost afraid Alfred had materialized from nowhere and killed the mood. When he looked at Athena she wrapped her legs around him and informed him, "You're going to have to carry me up those stairs when we're done here. Or just leave me in the back of one of your more spacious cars."

**An hour later…**

Alfred pushed the bedroom door open with his two and spotted two heads on one pillow, curled up in a ball and thankfully covered with a heavy quilt, sound asleep. He almost hated to disturb them. They had arrived back at a horrendous eight o'clock in the morning and had been in bed not even an hour.

"Master Wayne."

There was slight movement from the ball.

"You have a visitor."

Bruce lifted his head and squinted at Alfred. He hadn't been in bed long enough to get a bed-head yet. Through the dimness of the room Bruce's voice traveled, "Who?"

"Kimberly Amber Holloway."

Alfred was pretty sure Bruce's gaze narrowed in annoyance though he could not be sure. "Tell her I'm out."

Alfred bristled. He pursed his lips, "Master Wayne, I am not going to lie to that poor soul. I may do a number of things for you, but I am not going to get involved in the web that is your love life! That poor girl believes that you two are still indeed a couple. You need to go set her straight so she can move on. Besides, I am tired of listening to her whiney voice when she calls at all hours for you."


	23. Chapter 23

Lt. James Gordon walked into the designer jewelry shop and gaped. He had never seen so many diamonds in his life and would never be able to afford anything in the shop, and the ladies behind the counter knew it. The huddled together like a football team and sent the youngest young girl, a pretty little red head out.

She gave the rumpled detective a smile.

"Good morning Sir, can I help you?"

Gordon gave her a smile and walked over. He reached in his pocket and set the plastic bag marked **EVIDENCE** on the glass counter.

"I'm Lieutenant James Gordon, I'm doing a investigation and was wondering if you could tell me if this earring came from this store?"

The girl looked to a woman with obviously fake breasts. A bottle brunette with enough hairspray to set Russia aflame. She sashayed over and took one look at the earring. She picked up the bag with her talon nails and examined it closer.

"This is one of ours…a magnificent piece."

James smiled, "Yes it is, could you possibly tell me if you had sold any recently?"

The woman looked back to her fellow clerks. She drew her tongue over her lips, waiting for a bribe.

Cash, like always.

It was Gotham after-all.

"I could always come back with a search warrant."

She made a face. Realizing she wasn't getting anything she wanted him gone. "Yeah, we sold three sets in all. One to the mayor for his girlfriend. Another to some supermodel visiting for the fashion show. Then one set sometime last week to Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce Wayne? Do you know who he bought it for?"

The woman shrugged, "Probably his girlfriend." As she spoke his cell phone began to ring, the theme from _Knight Rider_ too. A joke courtesy of his daughter and he couldn't figure out how to get it off. The woman gave him a snarl and he thanked her, fished the phone from his pocket as he grabbed the bag of evidence, "Gordon."

One of his sergeants came over the line, "Lieutenant. I thought you should know Negly posted bail. He'll be out later today. Do you want us to follow him around?"

Gordon pushed open the door and walked out into the crowded city street. "Yes. Have someone from tech keep an eye on his accounts. I have a lead on the earring so I'm going out to Wayne Manor."

"Wayne Manor?"

Gordon spotted his car and a hotdog vendor, he walked for lunch first. "Yeah. Wayne bought a set of the earrings not long ago and Wayne and his girlfriend keep coming up in the investigation. No such thing as coincidences."

His sergeant laughed and then said, "Speaking of the girlfriend, I got a call from the hospital and the victim she treated woke up and is lucid. So I'm on my way down to speak with him and apparently he had a visitor earlier today."

Gordon got in the three deep line for a chili cheese dog, "Who was that?"

"Ares Merozikki."

**Later that day…**

Alfred held the phone to his chest and peered into the monitor above his head seeing who was ringing the doorbell. Detective Gordon. He put the phone to his ear, "Lucius, I'll have to call you back. There is a police officer at the door and I fear I will have to go wake Bruce."

He heard concern in his friend's voice, "Is there a problem?"

With a sigh Alfred replied, "There is always a problem concerning Bruce." He then hung up the phone and pressed the intercom button, "I'll be right there detective."

James jumped and looked upwards at the sudden voice.

His eyes looked for the camera and found nothing, when he finally gave up the heavy front door opened and Alfred beckoned the police officer in, "Good afternoon detective, how can I be of service?"

Kindly James smiled, he looked around the spacious entrance to the manor and inquired, "Is Bruce Wayne here? I have a few questions for him concerning a ongoing investigation he helped me with earlier in the week."

"Of course, of course, let me go wake him. He'll be right down."

James frowned and looked at his watch, "Wake him."

To which Alfred smiled, "New girlfriend I'm afraid. They've been locked away in his bedroom all day."

Ah, Gordon nodded, "To be young and in love, huh?"

"Indeed," Alfred smiled, partially at the joke and to himself.

He left the detective in the hall while he walked up the stairs to Bruce's room. Through the long carpeted halls and past priceless paintings, antiques and furniture, towards Bruce's room.

Silence followed him.

Long gone were the days when Bruce was a young boy. Long gone were the days when the mansion was full of laughing children. Alfred missed it. He missed the laughter and happiness. While he never regretted his choice not to marry and have his own family, he longed to hear the pitter-patter of little feet in the mansion again, he longed to have that feeling of warmth back. A little had returned when Bruce came home.

When he came to the bedroom door which was cracked he peeked in.

Again seeing the two bodies curled up together, hidden beneath the blankets, almost sound asleep. With a knock on the door he silently selfishly wished for a mistake in the contraceptive instructions, or perhaps a user malfunction, even a missed pill would suffice.

Again Bruce's head lifted from the pillow and he squinted. A pale arm draped across his muscled chest.

"Lieutenant Gordon is downstairs for you."

Bruce groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. He sat up and the hand fell from his chest and into his lap. "All right, I'll be right down."

Alfred waited until Bruce's feet hit the floor and then he left, giving his charge privacy.

Bruce grabbed the cobalt lounge pants from the floor and pulled them on, then he looked around for his robe. After a brief search he gave up and grabbed the t-shirt he had given Athena earlier in the morning from the floor, pulled it over his head, and made a attempt to smooth out his hair.

"Do I need to get dressed and go with you?"

A devilish smirk crossed his face when her eyes opened, "Nope. Alfred would have mentioned you."

Her eyes narrowed from where she lay on the very comfortable and warm bed. She covered her face with her hand, "My God, you look like the cat who ate the canary." The smile grew and he stepped up to the bed. Dropped down beside her, took his hand in her's, and kissed her deeply. Waking her completely. So much so her hand snaked up and into his hair, pulling him closer, and then came a rumble.

Bruce slowed and glanced up, seeing Alfred in the doorway. Athena stopped kissing him and told him, "Bring me back a Pepsi."

One last time he kissed her and then stood. He jogged over to the door and out into the hall with Alfred, "What does he want?"

Stiffling a eyeroll Alfred smoothed out Bruce's hair and adjusting his shirt, he wiped at a purple mark on Bruce's neck and then realized what it was. "He has questions for you. Apparently you spoke with him the other day?"

Bruce pinched his nose, "Right…yeah." He followed Alfred down the hall, fighting a yawn and listening as Alfred inquired, "We're you and Madam Merozikki going to arise at all today?"

"Yes, we were. I have to work tonight and she has work too, but I want her to stay here until this mess with her father is sorted out."


	24. Chapter 24

Bruce spotted the detective and Batman's ally in the drawing room. Leaning close and admiring a painting. Like always the detective's suit needed to be ironed and his hair was a mess. Bruce wasn't one to judge though, especially in his current condition.

"Afternoon detective."

James Gordon jumped and turned, guilty. He looked up at Bruce who leant against a solid oak doorframe casually. Like a King in his Castle, or a Billionaire in his Mansion. Paired with that _whoopee I just had super great sex and the girlfriend is very pleased as am_ look on his face.

Oh to be young and rich and have everything like Bruce Wayne. The detective pulled the earring in the **EVIDENCE** bag from his coat, "Did you buy a earring set similar to this recently?"

Bruce took the bag and looked it over, "Yes."

Detective Gordon waited and Bruce added, "For Athena. A gift." He gave it back to James, "It better have not been stolen. Those were a little pricey."

Gordon snorted and Bruce smirked.

"Actually, this was found at a crime scene. I matched it up to three possible people and I thought I would start with you and Athena."

Bruce was silent and waited for something, anything. Finally Gordon asked, "Is she here? I'd like to talk to her if I could."

Inwardly Bruce cringed. His brain screamed be the obnoxious playboy! Be the obnoxious playboy! Be the obnoxious playboy! "Should we get a lawyer?"

"Well…if you feel the need, but we're merely doing an investigation. Whoever owns this earring was the victim of a crime and witnessed another crime."

Slowly Bruce nodded, "Oh…ok, let me go wake her up…stay here." Millions of thoughts went through his head. He backed out of the doorway and then peeked back in, "Are you thirsty? Hungry? Alfred!"

The butler appeared out of thin air.

Bruce pointed, "See that Lieutenant Gordon gets something to drink. I'm going to go drag Athena out of bed."

Once out of the room Bruce ran down the hall, he raced up the stairs three at a time, and sped up when he reached the top. Hardly breaking a sweat. Far quicker then it had taken Alfred, Bruce made it to his bedroom, he flipped the light on and leapt onto the bed. Effectively waking Athena back up. She looked up at him as if he had lost his mind, "Where's my soda?"

Calm as could be Bruce asked, "What exactly happened when you were mugged yesterday? Lieutenant Gordon is downstairs with a earring of yours found at the crime scene."

Her eyes widened as she sat up.

He could see a million thoughts going on behind her eyes. She chewed on her bottom lip and whispered, "My father sent one of his guys…he gave me these bruises, and then Ares showed up and he…he just…shot him."

"Do I need to call a lawyer?"

Her eyes bulged even further. Her dainty hands covered her mouth. She hadn't even considered that distinct possibility. "I…I don't know, I hope not. Has he said anything? Bruce don't call a lawyer for me…I'll get a family lawyer."

Quickly he snatched her hands away from her face.

Then lowered his gaze so she looked him in the eyes, "No. What will happen if you do that? Athena we need to talk."

There, he had said those dreaded words and she paled.

He kissed her knuckles one by one.

"Bruce," she began.

"No. We'll talk to the detective first. But then we have to talk about us."

**A little later…**

Bruce followed Athena down the stairs and even though there was a rock in his stomach, he had after all said those fateful words, asked to talk about the one thing she couldn't give him with giving up her family, Bruce caught himself checking out her butt in her jeans.

When she reached the bottom step and turned to look up at him, nervous, she caught him. He never averted his gaze or tried to hide it. Instead he looked her over, "Don't worry. I'll be right here." He stepped beside her and took her hand, leading her down the hall and into the room where Detective Gordon was, on his cell phone.

His thumb rubbed her smooth palm.

Gordon quickly hung up and looked at the couple. At seeing Athena, a woman he had gone to for information on more then one occasion. The shock on his face was blatantly obvious at the sight of her bruises. A lovely purple tinged with a greenish-yellow hue. Looking every bit as painful as it was.

He dropped the cell phone in his pocket and handed her the earring in the baggie. Athena took it and looked over it. Seeing the dozens of perfect diamonds and smooth gold. "It's a beautiful earring."

"Where did you get those bruises?"

The soothing motion of Bruce's thumb helped her remain calm, get her story straight, though she kept it as true as she could manage, "My father is upset over my decision to see Bruce."

Gordon opened his mouth and Athena pleaded, "James, please drop it. If you investigate this little…misunderstanding, my father will know I am talking to you and something worse then this will happen, and then you will loose your favorite informant."

Beside her Bruce took everything in silently.

Gordon was almost speechless, "Is this earring yours?"

She looked to Bruce who looked back at her, she then asked, "Am I being charged with anything?"

"Victims usually aren't," Gordon replied.

A million thoughts ran through her head, all-involving keeping her brother out of jail. Protecting Ares. She chewed on her lip, "Yes."

"Yes the earring is yours?"

She nodded and Bruce listened as if the words from her mouth were the air he needed to survive.

"It's mine. I don't know who attacked me. I don't want to know about the investigation…I want to stay out of the whole _fight for power_ with Falcone gone. I just want to lay low till all these assassinations are done and over with."

Bruce jumped in, understanding where Athena was going now, "If you could keep the fact Athena is here from the public and private knowledge, between the three of us. It's safer for her that way."

Even though Gordon hadn't whipped that famous police notepad out he was taking some serious mental notes. "Did you see who attacked you? Who killed your attacker?"

With a shrug she let out a breath, "The dead one…he's paid muscle and the other guy was masked. He kidnapped me but I got away. He had some sort of sporty car. I've been hiding here since then. I haven't even been back to my own apartment."

"Would you come down to the station?"

Athena looked to Bruce who hesitated. Not that he was afraid of going, oh no, the thought of sending her back into the war zone for her that was Gotham City made Bruce sick to his stomach. "Could I take her?"

"Absolutely."

**Later that day…**

Alfred listened as the front door slammed. It slammed and something fell and shattered, something glass. He did not move from where he stood pouring over the yellow pages for a gardener.

He almost didn't want to know.

Bruce's voice radiated through the mansion, into the kitchen clear as a bell. "_No! There is absolutely no way you are going back to your apartment or clinic! Have you lost your mind? Your father is trying to kill you! The mobs factions are trying killing each other and you, not to mention that creepy little cult leader who posted bail!_"

Athena's voice followed, obviously not one to back down during an argument. "_Don't tell me __**NO**__! I'm a grown woman! I, unlike you, am not rich and have to work to pay my bills, __**Bruce**__! And don't you dare start on about that dating or cohabitating nonsense, you of all people should know that is not an option for me. I told you that! I told you not to get attached! Didn't I! Remember?_"

Alfred set his pencil down and sipped his tea.

Waiting.

Sure enough Bruce's voice followed with a unapologetic firmness, "_Well I'm sorry then but I'm attached, I'm so far beyond attached I'm past the point of no return!_"

"_That's __** your**__ problem!_" She screamed, her voice closer, they were walking while fighting, screaming and breaking things. Something else fell over and shattered as Alfred sighed, stood, and went to see what all was broken.

He smoothed his suit.

Blinking as his somewhat son yelled, "_It's your problem too! Tell me you feel absolutely nothing. __**NOTHING! Nothing at all**__. Tell me you feel absolutely nothing at all right now and I'll let you do whatever you want. Come and go as you please and this will be just bedroom gymnastics_."

Alfred pushed the kitchen door open.

The couple was up the hall and on the left, just out of sight. Alfred froze as Athena screeched. He could hear the raw emotion on her voice, hear how upset she was, knowing she was in tears without having to be there and see her, he froze in his tracks.

"_It's not that easy! I have a husband all lined up. I don't have a choice Bruce…this has been out of my hands since I was a child! If I pick you I have to loose my ENTIRE family! If I pick them I loose you! Don't ask me to choose between the two of you, please don't_."

Alfred found his heart beating in his chest.

Needing to know what the answer was from more then mere curiosity.

"_Tell me you love me_," Bruce demanded.

Her breath came out in a breathless whisper as she pleaded, "Bruce…please…it doesn't matter whether I say it aloud or not. Isn't this enough?"

It wasn't for Bruce and Alfred knew it.

Bruce snarled, "It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. I am not asking for a public declaration of your love. I am not asking you to marry me. I am not asking you to turn your back on your entire family. I am asking you whether or not you love me. Tell me now."

Careful not to swallow for fear they would hear. Careful not to breathe too deeply or even rock on his feet, Alfred strained to hear incase her voice continued to lower as it had in her previous outburst.

There was no need, she yelled, "I love you! I love you! I love you dammit! Are you happy! Fine, you win! I am in love with you!"

There was silence.

Alfred closed his eyes and prayed.

Then something else got knocked over, Alfred opened his eyes, almost afraid she had attacked him. Then the belt from Bruce's suit ended up in the hall. Alfred quickly turned and headed back into the kitchen. Back to continue his hunt for a gardener. He could track down illegally moved money all around the Caribbean and Asia, but find someone to mow the property and plant roses, it was a turning into a crusade.


	25. Chapter 25

The halls of the manor were dark as Alfred strolled down the hall, a tray on his hand with tea and some cookies. Even though there wasn't a light on he knew the mansion like the back of his hand.

He turned a corner and light soaked the hall from an open doorway, which Alfred walked right in. He cleared his throat and Athena glanced up from the laptop she was seated in front of. In her bedroom which adjoined Bruce's.

Alfred walked over and set the tray down, "Thought you might like a snack before I retire for the evening."

She smiled, thanking him, eyes still bloodshot from her earlier phone conversation with her father, which had taken place when Batman had left. Alfred patted the top of her head in a fatherly gesture and glanced at the computer screen, "You're typing up your job resume?"

She nodded, "Yeah. So when he disowns me tomorrow and fires me…I can start a job hunt. Gotham General is good as any place to start?"

Alfred had overheard the phone conversation between Athena and her father. The two would have dinner the next day in Bruce's newly acquired hotel. The fact she refused to meet him anywhere except in a very public place, during a very busy time bothered Alfred. A daughter was not supposed to be afraid of her father. It just wasn't supposed to be like that.

"Indeed, don't wait up for Master Wayne."

Athena smiled at him as the cell phone in her purse rang.

**Meanwhile…**

The cloaked figure known as Batman to Gotham City prowled through the dark corridors of the city bank. Blending in with the shadows. Hidden from the broken cameras he had tampered with, which he would fix on his way out.

Able to avoid the very routine guards and their repetitive beats.

He slunk into a dark office and walked over to a desk.

The desk that belonged to the business card from the almost dead man. He stalked around the office, looking for any form of hiding place. Any sort of thing out of place while he waited for the computer to load up.

Upon seeing a book that was out of place. One of the classics among financial books, with a gloved hand he pulled it from the shelf and felt the wooden safe. In a matter of seconds he had it opened.

Inside was a key.

Useless unless he knew what it was for. At that moment he didn't, so with covered fingers he lifted the key out and examined it.

From the desk the computer chimed.

He walked over to it, cape brushing softly over the carpeted floor. A password box had come up. He tried a couple words. Remembering that Alfred had told him the man had a Porsche, a boat and three houses throughout the country.

The man loved his boat.

The computer accepted the boats name and he was into the computer. Quickly he put the key back in the wooden book, and the book back.

A security guard walked past the closed door.

Batman was still.

The guard never paused, she continued on with her route.

He then went back to the computer. Every file was open to him.

**Meanwhile a little later…**

Athena watched the streets fly by as Alfred sped through Gotham City, driving his Rolls Royce. The man broke most every posted speed limit and made an illegal U-turn.

"It's up here," she pointed, her cell phone in hand.

She had gotten the call from Tim.

Her brother had been poisoned with something. Tim couldn't move him and the car was gone, stolen. Tim had gotten Ares outside and that was about it. They were alone in an alley.

Alfred slowed down a little as he turned the luxury car onto the city back street. A dark and nasty alley.

Athena gave him more directions, knowing the back streets well. They passed several homeless men, a brothel, and two strip clubs before they reached the club's back door.

"Stop! There they are!"

Athena's door was open and she was out of the car before it stopped. Alfred quickly parked it, turned it off, pocketed the keys, and followed her into the dark night. He ran over to her where she knelt by her still brother's side.

A well-dressed very distressed man was beside her, holding her brothers hand, Tim, if Alfred recalled correctly. He stood and watched as Athena took her brother's pulse, checked his eyes, and tried to wake him up.

Ares was still, breathing, but unresponsive.

She looked up at Alfred, "It's a sedative."

"He'll be ok," Tim cried.

She nodded, "Help me lift him."

Alfred rushed to her side and grabbed his feet as she hooked her hands under his arms. "Open the back door please," Alfred told Tim. Tim leapt to his feet and ran to the car, he did as Alfred asked and the two managed to get Ares into the back of the car. "I need to get to my clinic," Athena told Alfred, while she continued to feel Ares's pulse. "I'm betting he's been drugged with Ketamine."

**Meanwhile…**

Armed with more incriminating evidence then he had been expecting, Batman exited the bank and crept through the streets of Gotham, a new place in mind to go before the sun rose. A new person of interest to visit. He melted into the shadows and night, hidden from most eyes.

Until he heard laughter he knew, laughter he had not heard since he rid the world of Ra's al Ghul.

Dr. Jonathan Crane's laughter drifted through the street, Scarecrow.

**Not far from there…**

Athena followed Alfred and Tim who pushed Ares into the 24-Hour Clinic, silencing the nurse with the wave of her hand. They went into a empty room in the back where Athena began to immediately hook Ares up to monitors, she took his blood-pressure and had both Alfred and Tim fetch her various items.

Before long she had a vial of blood and had sent Tim with it down to the lab.

She had Alfred running down to the pharmacy as she gave her brother an IV. However Alfred came back, "There is no one there."

She narrowed her eyes, "What?"

Alfred stepped into the room, "No one is in the pharmacy."

With a string of Greek swears she checked the monitor, "Can you keep an eye on his heartbeat? I'll be right back. If Tim gets back with he results, he shouldn't that quick, but if he does come and get me. Once we know what it is we can call the Poison Control Center."

**Meanwhile…**

The laughter had stopped but he had followed the trail of destruction Scarecrow had left.

Broken glass was scattered beneath a broken window.

The black cowl looked in the shattered window and saw rows and rows of pills. A pharmacy. Scarecrow had broken into a pharmacy, a clinic. Deep within him hatred rose.

Then a voice came into the pharmacy from within the clinic. An annoyed voice he knew intimately, "Marie…Marie! You better not be sleeping! Marie I need some…Marie? Oh dear God _Marie_…" He peeked in towards the sound of her voice and saw a limp and lifeless hand on the floor, half in an aisle.

**Inside the pharmacy…**

Athena knelt by Marie's still side.

Marie had a pulse. A weak pulse. She checked her mouth for any sign of choking, and then her eyes for any sign of drug use, she was the Pharmacist after-all. It wouldn't be unheard of to be an addict too.

She heard the bottles fall over the moment she found the lump on the back of Marie's head.

Slowly Athena stood and walked from the aisle, she crossed the large pharmacy and then spotted the broken window. Hitting the silent alarm while she walked towards the noise, she grabbed a small red fire extinguisher from the wall. It was the size of a 2 liter soda bottle, but metal and would do some damage.

Something moved behind her.

A bottle of pills hit the floor and she spun around, in time as a pipe swung towards her face. Quickly she brought the bright red canister up and the noise the two things made when they met was deafening.

The man was a homeless bum and smelled like him too. Though he looked vaguely familiar to her. He paused at the sight of her and she hit him with a hard right hook, catching him on the cheek, catching him off guard, and sending him back onto a desk. Sending it's contents everywhere.

Before she could think of what to do next, a black figure appeared, Batman was there.

His gloved strong hands turned Crane over as the man slowly regained his wits. He kicked out at her and screamed. But no match for Batman's pure strength as he was lifted from the desk, put down face forward on the floor, arms pulled back behind him.

With a look up at her his deep voice growled, "Do you have something to tie him with?"

Quickly she looked around the medical office space.

When her eyes fell upon a box of packaged IV's she ran over. Ripped open several plastic bags of the clear tubing. With five long tubes in hand she ran back, tying the hands of Jonathan Crane behind himself, all while Batman pinned him down with frighteningly powerful ease.

She didn't seem to notice or care. Instead she asked, "Something for his feet too."

"Yes," he answered and she ran back to the box as the sound of sirens filled the night.

Only when Crane's hands were bound to his ankles did he leave. And even then he remained close, watching as two cops climbed from their squad car.


	26. Chapter 26

Detective Arnold Flass looked from the bound clearly insane man and then to Athena as she screeched and complained about Gotham's Crime. All while paramedics quickly rushed Marie from the pharmacy.

He had heard over the radio the clinic had been attacked.

Aristotle Merozikki was one of his paying customers and the clinic was his to protect, watch out for. Sure he had heard that the father and daughter were going through a rough patch. But he had not been given the order to not keep an eye on the clinic.

At the sight of him Athena grimaced. She looked back to the police officers as they handcuffed Crane and finished taking their report down. Next would come the crime scene techs.

All the clinics patients were being transferred out to the three hospitals around Gotham. With no working pharmacy there could be no full and complete treatment.

Flass walked over to her as the officers hauled Crane off. Oblivious to the dark eyes that watched from outside.

He approached Athena, "I'm Detective Flass and I want you to know that I am personally going to be sure that Jonathan Crane never comes near this clinic ever again."

She narrowed her eyes at him. Tired and wanting him gone, knowing exactly who he was. "Just do your job," she tiredly told him. When he began to speak she cut him off, "Do me a favor and don't do me any favors. I know exactly who you are."

His gaze darkened and he stepped closer to her, lowering his voice so the cops who were leaving wouldn't hear. "If I were you I'd watch that pretty little mouth of yours. Everyone knows you and your daddy aren't on the best of terms. I'd get on my good side if I were you. You may need me one day."

A look of vile disgust made her nose curl. She stepped back and bumped into a wheeled chair.

Quickly she got away from the dirty cop.

**Slightly before dawn…**

Flass stepped onto the street after a quick stop in the backroom of a bar. He had people to shack-down for money and his shift was ending soon. He walked toward his car, all his, after-all Gordon was now a lieutenant, his boss. He was currently between partners.

Coffee in hand he stepped up to his car.

Rolling his head he heard his neck pop several times. As he dug around his pocket for keys he heard a noise. Though noises in alley's where a good amount of his business was conducted was not odd.

So he ignored it.

He continued his hunt for his keys when something sunk into his window. The driver's window.

Flass began to swear.

Keys forgotten.

He wrenched a piece of metal from the window with his pudgy fingers, which ironically smelled like money, and looked at the piece of metal in the dark.

The lightening sky provided enough light for him to determine the shape.

A bat.

The piece of metal fell from his hand as he panicked.

He spun around and a hand closed around his throat, hefting him up until only his toes touched the ground, and barely.

Hampering his ability to breathe a great deal.

A figure that commonly haunted his dreams had found him yet again. He let out a squeak. The angry masked face leant close to his, snarling in a pure beastial voice, "_Do not go near the Merozikki daughter again under any circumstance._"

He nodded and tried to look away.

Terrified.

Batman pulled him closer to his face. Eyes blazing with hatred. Voice coming out in a seeth, "I'll be watching you."


	27. Chapter 27

Bruce Wayne stepped into the hospital elevator with a bouquet of daisies wearing a thousand dollar suit that fit him splendidly. It was almost nine in the morning and he was wired. Having showered quickly after returning to his mansion, he then quickly left to get to the hospital in order to let Alfred return home, who had faithfully remained by Athena's side as he had asked.

Such loyalty could not be bought.

A ninety-year-old woman with a walker in a hospital gown eyed him.

Bruce pressed the button for 3 and stepped back.

She looked him over and the doors closed. Her eyes found his, "You're that billionaire, Bruce Wayne?"

He smiled, "Yes ma'am."

Her eyes fell on his rear. Then she sipped from a cup in her hand. She declared, "They didn't make men like you in my day."

Unable to determine if the old woman was lucid or not, he just managed a calm, "Thank you." Silently urging his floor to hurry up. When the doors dinged and he exited he was more then aware of the eyes glued to his legs and hiney. Though it almost made him smile.

Had he not been on a mission.

As if he hadn't a care in the world he strolled through the critical care unit of the hospital, flowers in hand. Alfred had given him the hospital room number. But he wanted to take everything in as he went by. Exits. Staff. Patients. Visitors.

Everything.

As he strolled on past a breakfast cart and down the hall Ares's room would be he spotted Alfred outside the door chatting with a doctor. At the sight of Bruce Alfred wrapped up his conversation with the doctor. The doctor walked off and Bruce went to Alfred, who looked at the flowers, "For Athena?"

"Tim," Bruce smiled.

A blink was the response he got.

Bruce elaborated, "Athena told me to never buy her flowers. Apparently, flowers were only given to her when she was getting cheated on, or left. Absolutely no flowers. I can wash her car though as a sign of my devotion."

The complete and utter void of emotion in Bruce's voice told Alfred he was not exactly thrilled with the fact. Alfred leant close, whispering to Bruce, "May I remind you that you were the one who wanted a change from the usual. Infact, I believe you wanted to court someone who could add some excitement to your life. Has she not?"

Both Bruce's eyebrows rose.

Alfred then patted his shoulder, "Very well then, do as you wish but remember that you began your relationship with her because she was indeed so different from every other woman here. To ask her to change or do as you say, well, it would be absurd and counter-productive."

As Alfred began to walk down the hall Bruce's head whipped around. Words came out slowly, "You approve of her?"

The look Alfred gave him was strained. He grimaced, "She's grown on me, sir."

Bruce watched him go and then opened the door and stepped into the hospital room that held three people, one of whom was awake, and seated in a chair by Ares's bedside, Tim. Who quickly hopped to his feet at the sight of Bruce Wayne.

Bruce quickly crossed the room and gave Tim the flowers, "I am so sorry to hear about Ares. I know how much he means to Athena and can only imagine what he means to you."

Tears welled in Tim's blue eyes and he quickly hugged Bruce. Bruce's hazel eyes traveled across the room. They fell on Ares who was out like a light and plugged into three separate machines. Then to Athena who was asleep in a hospital chair, at a very painful angle. He almost dreaded waking her up. "How is his condition?"

Tim pulled away, wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand, and smelled the ample amount of flowers. "Good, great actually. He's being transferred down to the floor today and should be out of here by tonight." Bruce offered the clearly upset man his handkerchief, "Where will you two go? Is Ares safe from his father?"

Dabbing at his eyes, Tim looked over his shoulder at his boyfriend, "He'll be fine. His father loves him to death. Athena's on his bad side at the moment. I'm more worried about her then him and Ares was poisoned!"

Tim then turned his attention back to Bruce and gave him the silk cloth back, "You may want to get her up and moving. Around noonish Aristotle is swinging by to check up on honey-buns, and she better not be here."

With a quick peek at the Rolex on his wrist, 9:15. While there was plenty of time Bruce deduced that if he was a little tired she had to be exhausted. Plus waking her up was never a good thing. Maybe if he had a 10ft pole but those were in short supply in hospitals.

So he strolled over and prayed she was half awake.

When he reached her side there was no such luck. She was sound asleep. He glanced at Tim who admired the flowers and stayed safely across the room.

So he reached down and brushed his fingers across her flushed cheek. Her ears were flushed as well. But her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head suddenly, waking far too quickly. He hadn't meant to startle her but she was up, "It's time to head home."

Dumbly she nodded, blinking and looking around, unfolding her legs from beneath her where they were painfully folded.

**A little later…**

Athena followed Bruce to one of his expensive parked cars, utterly exhausted. She was tired and sore and wanted to go to bed and sleep for a week, plus her back ached like there was a vise in it.

The morning air was crisp and she was trembling, unable to stay warm. Even with his suit jacket draped over her form , which was mere inches from him.

He opened the car door for her and when she climbed in he closed it behind her. It was quite a drop down into the bucket seats of the sports car.

While she attempted to buckle up, which took longer then it should have while she trembled, she watched Bruce pause and fish he pager from his pocket. Look at the top and sigh. While he continued walking around the car he fished his cell phone from his pocket and called the number, Lucius's number.

He climbed in the car.

The quickly started it and turned the heat on, although he was comfortable. While he rubbed her cold hands Fox's voice came over the line, "Mr. Wayne I have some numbers I need to run by you. I need you presence in the office today, where are you now?"

Coffee, he'd need coffee. "In Gotham, I'll swing by. Should I prepare for anything in particular?"

Meaning board meeting? Detectives? A rioting crowd?

"No no, I don't think so, I'll explain when you get here."

Bruce hung up the phone and glanced at the woman seated beside him. "I'll wait in the car," she murmured, eyes heavy with sleep. A feeling similar to contentment seemed to fill him. A feeling he had not experienced since he was a child. Something he never really imagined he would feel again. He just had to make sure he protected it with every fiber in his being, now he knew how easy such things could be stolen away


	28. Chapter 28

Rachel Dawes looked over the pile of cases that had literally fallen upon her desk with a mighty thump.

Her brown eyes scanned over the parties in each one, trying to determine where to start. Whose case would be the most ethically pleasing for her to work on. Who would be going up against the state in Gotham this month.

When her eyes fell upon a familiar name: Jonathan Crane.

Quickly she flipped through the paperwork. Seeing all the crimes he was being charged with. The names of all the investigating officers, Detective James Gordon, and then the name of none other then Bruce's latest arm-candy. She made a face and looked over the statement she had given about finding Crane in her clinic. Then how Batman had detained Crane.

Something very close to anger coursed through her. Jealousy? Quickly she shoved that notion aside. After-all she had been the one to push him away. She didn't want him. He wasn't the person she thought he was. Plus it would have never worked out between the two of them. He was upper class and she wasn't. This _other _ woman clearly was in his social grouping.

But that had never seemed to matter to Bruce before.

Her eyes scanned over Crane's mug shot. A chill went through her body. She still had nightmares about the man. Still woke up alone in her bed at two in the morning because of the doctor. But if she hadn't pushed Bruce away, well, she'd still be alone in bed most early mornings, but she wouldn't be alone.

Annoyed she ran a hand through her loose chestnut hair.

She wasn't over Bruce.

How could she just get over someone like him? A childhood friend. Even though she willed it with everything she had inside. She closed the file and chewed on her lower lip. Wondering if she had made possibly the biggest mistake in her life.

"I'm running out for breakfast," she shouted to her temporary boss who usually hid in his office till the day was over, unless there was court.

**Wayne Enterprises…**

"Mr. Wayne is in a meeting with Mr. Fox, but if you want to go in his office and wait you can. He said if you ever came by that you were more then welcome to go in his office while we page him."

Rachel hesitated by agreed and pointed toward the door, "Ok. In there?"

"Yes, Miss. Dawes. We'll alert Mr. Wayne as soon as he and Mr. Fox finish their meeting. It shouldn't be much longer," the secretary smiled, taking a note to give to Mr. Wayne as she spoke.

Rachel walked over to the closed door and dark office. She turned the knob which was unlocked and strolled in, turning the light on. The office was pretty Bruce.

Decorated in rich hues and oak furniture. Pictures of Gotham in black and white were framed on the wall. There was a magnificent view of the city. As she completed her circle she froze at the sight of a sleeping woman on the couch, the woman blinked at Rachel.

The _other_ woman.

The woman who had Bruce's attention, bed, and God only knew what else. Sure she had met _her _ on occasion and knew her by name, profession and even had a little respect for the woman before. Her late boss had called on her many times to testify as an expert in court. Plus there was the fact that she openly put space between herself, and her family's criminal enterprise. That always had impressed her. That and her intelligence. However, looking at the woman as she woke up, seeing what were clearly bruises on her face, and knowing that she probably was still confined by her family's traditions: Rachel felt jealousy.

"Miss. Dawes," she mumbled, slightly disoriented.

Rachel blinked and stepped back, bumping into a chair. This _woman_ was sleeping on the couch in Bruce's private office. Bruce never brought any of his arm candy to work. She wasn't arm candy. The little green monster in Rachel grew more jealous.

"Oh…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I was looking for Bruce."

Athena nodded, she sat up and a wave of silky black hair fell over her shoulder. "No you didn't," she lied, yawned, and looked around, "He should be back in the relative near future." She pulled her legs up and got in the sitting position.

As much as Rachel wanted to excuse her self. Go back to the office and regain her sanity, she found she couldn't.

She found she needed to sit down with the woman, whose name she was somehow unable to think, if just for a moment. With a great deal of concern she asked, "What happened with your face? Did that happen last night? I just received the Crane case…it didn't say anything about him assaulting you."

As if Athena had forgotten her fingers touched her face.

Then realization crossed over, "Oh. That…no, I got mugged the other day." The acceptance in her voice over the fact would have shattered usually Rachel, didn't, which told her just how crazy she was being.

This was the kind of woman she could go out and have a girls-night with. The kind of woman she usually looked up to. She should have been thrilled Bruce found someone like her.

Why had she even stopped by? She couldn't even rationalize it now that she was in the office.

Athena was looking at her with a worried face. "Are you ok? You look a little…upset. Do you want me to go get Bruce?"

Rachel quickly looked at her watch. She never even read the time, "Actually no…I have to run, just tell Bruce I'll call him later." She hurried from the office with Athena's concerned eyes following her.

Rachel darted to the elevator.

Hit the button on the wall, and in a matter of seconds the doors opened, revealing Bruce and a regal looking older black man in an expensive suit.

She wanted to curl up and die then and there.

They stepped out of the elevator and Bruce looked to the other man, "I'll be right there." The man nodded and causally strolled off. Leaving Bruce to give Rachel his complete attention. Which ironically now she didn't want. Concern filled Bruce's face, "Is everything ok?

She felt a kick in her back.

Had she hurt him that bad? That he thought she'd only come to him if something was wrong, or she needed something?

"Fine," she smiled, then lied her bottom off, "I just came to check up on you. I heard you were being questioned by Lieutenant Gordon, and wanted to be sure everything was ok."


	29. Chapter 29

Prophet Negly let out a shrill scream when there was a knock on his hotel door. His new hotel door. He was so not going back to the one where he had been attacked by the Batman. That so wasn't happening. From the battered couch in the crappy hotel room, in the slums of Gotham, he demanded, "Who's there?"

"Me," came Vrato Jr.'s voice.

Negly paused but never rose from the couch, "Is Batman with you?"

There was a pause.

Then a snarl came, "Open this door or I will kick it in!"

Quickly the lithe man ran to the door, he unlocked it and opened it to be sneered at by the mobster, who stalked in as if it were his home. He even had the nerve to slam the door and Negly didn't have the nerve to say a word about it. His dark eyes looked over the luggage and then to the quivering man, blazing, "You're leaving Gotham!"

Twitchy, like always when he was nervous, Negly nodded, "You never said anything about being arrested and attacked by a man dressed as a bat. If I knew that was going to happen I would never have come."

The conman was terrified of the mobster.

"We had a deal!"

"And you promised me protection. You promised me young girls. You promised me a mass of people to steal from…where are they? All I got was a bat. A big bat."

Vrato Jr kicked the duffle bag really hard, "Lets move on from the bat! Ok!"

Negly flinched but nodded.

Vrato lowered his arms and rubbed his pointed goatee. Turning his temper off, "Look, we're experiencing some problems, nothing that can't be smoothed out. We only have one family that's proving difficult to buy or kill off, ok?"

"The Merozikki's? Why don't you just kill off the kids?"

"Who do you think poisoned the son last night, dumbass. Plus if the daughter keeps irritating her father I won't have to kill her. Aristotle won't stand for much more of her whoring around Gotham. Why do you care? You have more money to clean for me."

Negly could only imagine.

He thought about asking of the daughter was a little too much for Jr. But then he thought better of it. So he sighed, "Just donate the money and I'll call the bank tomorrow."


	30. Chapter 30

The restaurant in "W" the hotel that Bruce owned was one of the best in Gotham, and had camera's in several places throughout, which made Athena feel slightly more at ease as she walked through the packed restaurant, alone, just as she wanted.

Bruce was somewhere in the ritzy hotel.

But she still felt like a little girl in trouble. Absolutely terrified. Dressed like an adult in a simple black skirt suit and heels from the designer shop across the street. She couldn't help but tremble as she followed the seater-man. There was a name for him and she couldn't think of it to save her life.

When she saw her father in a private booth she wanted to curl up and die.

It wasn't the first time she was standing up to her father.

But it very well could be the last.

The elderly man merely looked up at her as she took a seat. He sipped his wine and stated oh-so-calmly, "Well we are in a very busy place. With many cameras and witnesses. What do you want to tell me, Athena?"

She didn't sip the water or reach for a roll.

Not that she was afraid of poison. She was afraid she'd throw up.

Unable to think of a way to eloquently put it, she told him, "I'm not marrying Frank and I'm quitting work at the clinic."

The latter part of her sentence surprised him more, "Oh?"

She nodded, "I've already looked into several people who can fill my place and left the recommendations on my desk."

He drank more wine.

She waited for him to speak, trembling.

"So you're turning your back on your family? Turning your back on our traditions and culture, and me?"

There was no easy way of putting it so she remained silent.

"After all we have done for you? All because of a man?"

She wasn't going to argue with him or defend herself. There was nothing she could say that would make it better. So she remained silent.

"If you do this you will no longer be under the protection of the family."

"I know," she whispered.

There was a moment of silence.

Aristotle the stood and smoothed out his suit, "Then there is nothing more to discuss and no reason for me to be here." At that he strolled away from the table and left.

Leaving Athena to her tears.


	31. Chapter 31

_Authors Note: Ok, so this is going to be a trilogy. I'm wrapping this up and by the end of this week when I am finished with my finals I should have the sequel started. But hopefully this will be ok till then, reviews are welcome, any suggestions for the next installment are welcomed too._

It wasn't until the next afternoon that Athena and Bruce returned to Wayne Estate outside of Gotham. Alfred had been outside measuring the area in front of the mansion for the gardener he had been on the phone with. How hard could it be to find someone to tend the grounds? It was turning into his life's work.

For the third time he re-measured and got yet another different number.

Stifling a profanity, he stood and debated whether he really wanted a flowerbed. Why not dump gravel all over? Make it a rock garden? Or a sand garden! It worked for the Japanese, it would work for Bruce Wayne, and it would make him appear more cultured.

While Alfred debated it internally the sound of a sports car pulling up the drive caught his attention. He turned and spotted one of Bruce's many expensive cars.

Bruce was not alone in the car.

While this pleased Alfred a great deal he didn't let it show. Instead he began to roll the measuring tape up as he walked to the parked car. Seeing Bruce tell Athena something, stroke her face, and then climb from the car. Alfred hurried to the passenger door and opened it as the door moved. A lady should never have to open her own door.

She smiled a thanks to him and inquired, "Bruce said it would be ok if I camped out in one of the empty rooms. Not long, just until I get a place of my own."

His heart sang.

He glanced over the roof of the car as Bruce got two large bags and a painting from the trunk. "You don't care, right?"

Alfred held his elbow out to Athena, who placed her fingertips on his suit-covered arm. "Not in the least, Miss. Merozikki." With a look over his shoulder he added to Bruce, "Set those down in the hall, I'll bring them up later." Then he looked to Athena, "I believe you need some tea? Perhaps a cookie?"

A perfectly arched eyebrow, "One of those snicker doodles?"

Bruce hauled both heavy duffel's up the steps and through his mansion, a perfect workout. Alfred would have had to carry them one at a time. While Alfred took Athena to the Tea Room he put the bags full of her most prized possessions in her new room. Her new home as far as he was concerned. Things she had grabbed while she cleaned out her apartment, which she had been thrown out from, since it belonged to her family.

Upon selecting the room right beside his with a connecting hallway, Bruce set down both hefty cases.

He set the painting on the floor against the wall and walked to the large picture window. He threw open the curtains and looked out over the land he owned.

With a quick look around the immaculately clean room he opened the window, letting a warm breeze travel in.

At that he exited the room and hurried down the hall. Needing a drink and to get a few things done, but also feeling that urge to show her around. Not the polite host urge. God he hated parties. But the urge of a king wanting to show his new queen his castle.

He'd won their earlier debate.

He'd won and she was now going to be living with him.

Not that he was selfish or childish, no, he was just used to getting what he wanted when he wanted. It wasn't quite entitlement. Nor the privileged getting their due, it went deeper, was far more primal then that. Finally he felt that missing piece filled, he was complete.

But, as his life had proven, the other shoe had yet to drop.


End file.
